Aftershocks
by rkbrown1
Summary: When Brienne is raped, Jaime must support her along the way. They are both devastated by what happened and this is the story of how they work through it. Will they ever get past it? Will anything ever be as it was supposed to be? Modern Setting/AU. Slow build. TW: Rape. Based on my own experiences, please keep that in mind! Major Trigger Warning for chapters 2&3, see AO3 4 notes!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

She'd started working at UCLA Medical Center less than two years ago, but that wasn't when he fell in love with her. Back then, he was a hot shot ER doctor with a career on the rise. She was just a new doctor on the floor. He found out that she'd done her fellowship at Columbia before being offered a job here in Los Angeles, meaning she had just gotten her license and this was her first real opportunity to work as an attending physician with full privileges in the ER. What did all of that mean? She was inexperienced compared to him, and, because of that, would need to earn his trust. This was _his_ emergency room, _his _domain, and only those worthy of him would be allowed to stay. While he wasn't chief of surgery just yet, he had pull. He was, after all, Jaime Lannister, golden boy, saver of lives. He wasn't to be questioned.

For half a year he terrorized her, constantly questioning her in front of their superiors, teasing her for her appearance, calling her wench as if she was there to serve him. He figured if she couldn't handle him, she wasn't strong enough to be here anyways. UCLA was not some second rate hospital. This was a hospital for those who were born to receive accolades, those who were at the top of their game and at the top of the pack. He didn't realize until one winter night shift that she was a doctor who fit that description.

You see, Brienne Tarth had done just fine her first months in their ER, but she wasn't a standout. She was generally quiet, except when challenged. She was quick to react both medically and to Jaime's quips. She was a good, solid doctor: confident, competent, and, in Jaime's eyes, boring as all hell. It wasn't until late December that she truly impressed him. After that night, December 28, 2011, he didn't taunt her in the same way, didn't challenge her, didn't question her thinking in front of superiors. No, that night, when she saved those children, he'd fallen in love with her, changing his taunts to flirtations, his challenges to friendly teasing, his questioning to support in front of superiors. He went from constant antagonist to unrelenting partner and friend.

That night, after their shift, he'd found her resting in the employee locker room, reclining on a sofa with coffee in her hand. She looked exhausted.

"Why are you still here?" He asked.

"I'm working a double, just taking a break until someone pages me. Do you need the room?"

"No. No…I just came in to get my things and head home for the night. Why are you working a double?"

"We're short staffed, didn't you know?" She replied with a tone that said she knew he hadn't been told.

"No, I didn't. Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"No one wants to make you work more. You're the star here, and the star needs his beauty sleep."

"I don't need beauty sleep!"

She hummed under her breath.

"Really, I don't. Why don't you go home?"

"What? I just told you I'm working a double." Hadn't he been listening?

"I know. Let me take it. You get some rest. You deserve it after what you did out there tonight." She looked up at him for the first time. Was Dr. Jaime Lannister giving her a compliment?

"I did my job." She flushed.

"No, you saved three children's lives, with no help, as I lost their mother on the table beside them. You did your job and my job too, better than I did clearly."

"You know you couldn't have saved her, don't you?"

"I know. But I would have said the same about her kids until I saw you pull off miracles tonight."

She didn't know what to say, so she turned away from him, looking to her pager in the hopes of anything to get her out of this moment of discomfort.

"Go home, Dr. Tarth. Please. I'll see you tomorrow night." With that he left the room, and went to the nurses station to tell them of the personnel change. She'd gone home that night and slept for longer than she had since before medical school, and when she returned the next night, she'd thanked him.

"Thank me? For what? For pulling my weight? Gods, Brienne, it's no big deal."

"Can't you just accept a thank you?! What is your problem?!"

He'd stood there for a minute, unsure of what to say to her. It was then that he noticed her eyes. He hadn't seen her for a beauty before but then, he saw it. "Fine, if you'd like to thank me, join me for a drink after work tonight. There's a bar up the block, and I'd like to get to know you better."

"Are you asking me out? Is this some sort of prank?" She felt tricked.

"I'm not asking you out, I just…I realized last night that I hadn't given you a chance. You're a good doctor. Hey, maybe we could even be friends." He smirked. She stood for a moment looking at her feet.

"Ok."

"Alrighty then!" He smiled and walked away.

That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

After their shift, he waited for her to change outside the ladies' room, and realized as she stepped out that he'd never seen her in anything but scrubs and a lab coat before. Who knew she had any curves under there? They weren't much, but they were certainly there.

"Ready to go?" She'd asked, and he noticed her pale pink lips.

"Yes, let's go." And they walked alongside each other.

"So, where is it exactly we're going?"

"Just a little bar off of Kelton I found in my first few weeks here. It's the quietest place in the city when there's not live music."

"Interesting."

"Why do you say that?"

"No reason." She walked tall, he noticed. He knew she was tough from their bouts in the ER, but he hadn't seen her so…unshakeable. She was his height in her shoes, which he hadn't realized before, since most of the times he saw her she was hunched over a patient doing compressions or talking to them about medical action plans. Her hair was different too. She was all different. He knew that she was more conventionally attractive this way, but after seeing her in action the night before he wasn't sure which Brienne he preferred. She wasn't pretty, but she didn't look like the ragged doctor who wasn't afraid to get her hands bloodied. She looked younger this way too, but perhaps that was thanks to the sleep he'd provided her with the night before.

"So, Brienne Tarth, tell me about yourself."

"What do you want to know?" She looked at him as they turned a corner. He pointed open-palmed to some stairs. They walked up and sat at the bar.

"Well, why did you decide to become a doctor?" The bartender approached them. "Uh, I'll have whatever's on tap, and an appletini for the lady."

"Uh, no thank you, I'll have a Johnny Walker Black on the rocks."

"Woah, big player."

"I'd say the same right back, ordering for me like I'm one of your model girlfriends. I promise I can hold my liquor."

"I see that, who taught you how to drink?"

"My father. Who taught you how to be an ass?

"My father." She had to chuckle at that one.

"Daddy's golden boy, I should've known."

"Huh. Not exactly. I've been _disowned_." Jaime rolled his eyes.

"How does that work?" She looked over at him, for the first time genuinely intrigued.

"I pay my own bills, spend holidays alone, speak to my father through my loving brother, Tyrion. Not that Tyrion's close with my father. No, he's just all daddy dearest has left." He sighed and sipped his drink. "What about you? What's your family like?"

"It's just me and dad." She took a large sip and looked forward.

"You close?"

"Sort of."

"What does that mean?"

"Don't think that's any of your business." She whispered over the rim of her glass, shooting him a look. He was taken aback.

"You're right. It's not. I just thought…"

"Well don't. You may be an open book, but I like to keep my world mine."

"Keep your world _yours_. I've never heard it put quite that way."

"Well, what can I say. I'm not a typical woman." He looked at her, strangely.

"You most certainly aren't." She bucked.

"You know what, I don't need this. I don't even know why I came with you tonight." She got up and grabbed her jacket.

"What's wrong?" He followed her.

"Nothing. I was just right about you."

"Right about me? You don't even know me!" They were on the street now.

"I know you're an ass."

"Well…that part may be true. But…gods, Brienne will you wait up?"

"What do you want from me? I know I'm not your kind of woman so why the hell did you bring me here?"

"I want to be your friend! I want to get to know you! You were such a badass with those kids and I just want to see who the girl behind that medical miracle is. I don't know what I did wrong back there but whatever it is, I'm sorry. Please, just look at me."

"I'm sorry." She sighed and refused to look him in the eye. "I overreacted."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Ok. I have an idea, let's go back to my apartment. I have an xbox with call of duty dying for me to play it and for some reason I get the feeling you might enjoy beating my ass in some video games." She was smiling now.

"You sure this isn't just some ploy to get in my pants, Lannister?"

"Oh, you'll know when I'm trying to get in your pants, wench. I promise." He winked and grabbed her arm, pulling her along.

From that night forward, he and Brienne had just grown closer. It took her a week to explain why she'd gotten upset by his comments. It took him six months to fully understand the depths of her insecurity. After eight months she explained about the bet some supposed friends had made about her virginity in med school. At a year, she finally learned to take a compliment. It was six months ago that he'd gotten her to properly look in a mirror, and five months ago that he'd gotten her to do so without cringing. Three months ago she'd finally opened up about the deaths of her mother, her father, her siblings. It was just last month that he realized how deeply he loved her.

After all, it took him three months to explain being abandoned by Tywin. At seven months, he introduced her to Tyrion when he finally came to town. At nine months he explained his sordid relationship with Cersei, and she didn't even judge him for it. Eight months ago, he told her about the person he'd been before her. He'd been horrible, he explained, a bully, a jackass, a sometimes drunk and an all-too-often petty. She didn't mind. And it was around then that he realized he more than just didn't mind Brienne. He liked her, and he knew it was real because though she wasn't hideous, she wasn't quite pretty. She wasn't a Cersei, or any other sexy model or actress. She wasn't his usual type. But all of a sudden, she was _beautiful_, or maybe she had been all along and he hadn't noticed. She was kind, and fierce, whole, and brilliant, gentle, and bold, and that was without mentioning those beautiful eyes. It was five months ago that he knew she was everything.

It was supposed to be tonight. Tonight she was supposed to walk in to work right on time as usual to see him standing at the nurses' station waiting. She was supposed to come in and say hello and pick up her charts and he was supposed to walk with her to the locker room where he'd left flowers for her and chocolates and…and he was supposed to tell her he wanted to be more than friends. He was supposed to reassure her of the strength of their friendship, promise her she'd always have him no matter what came of it but that she just had to go out with him and give him a chance to show her how he felt about her. He was supposed to kiss her and get her to say yes.

But she wasn't here yet. She should have been an hour ago. She should've…

"Jaime." He heard her call out from the entrance of the emergency room. He looked up and saw…blood, and bruises. He ran to her. "Jaime. I…I need a rape kit."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

This wasn't supposed to be happening, but here he was, sitting with her, waiting for a trained nurse to come and start the kit. She wouldn't look at him, but he couldn't stop looking at her. Why wouldn't she look at him?

"Jaime."

"Yes, Brienne, yes, what is it?" He held her hand tighter.

"I'm having an acute stress reaction. I'm not sure when it's going to stop, but I'm in shock, and I know it's going to end, so please, when it ends, when I totally lose it and I'm lashing out and scared and in pain and…gods please, Jaime, _don't leave me_." She whispered.

"_Never_. I'll never leave you. I promise. I swear to the seven. On everything. Oh gods, Brienne, how could I let this happen to you."

"It wasn't your fault, Jaime." _It was mine, s_he thought silently. "Just stay with me. Through all of it."

"Do you…do you want me here for the kit? I just…"

"I know it won't be a pretty sight. I know I'll be…exposed. Just…look away at the bad parts." She sounded like a mother talking to her child during a scary movie.

"Dr. Tarth?" A small woman peaked through the ER curtain. "I'm Nurse Walker, I'm here to perform the kit. Are you ready for me?"

Brienne nodded.

"Ok. Will Dr. Lannister be staying?"

"Yes. I've asked him to stay, if you don't mind."

"Of course, Dr. Tarth. First, I have to collect your clothes and any debris from the surface of your body."

"Alright. Do I just take them off?"

"Yes, hand them to me as you go. I'll take them from you and start the chain of evidence."

"Ok." She stood from the hospital bed and started to take off her t-shirt. Jaime turned away. "No, Jaime. I need you." He turned back towards her, confused. "Can I trust you to just look in my eyes? I…I don't want to be alone."

"Absolutely." He whispered.

"Good." She started to pull off her shirt again, then stopped. "And don't you dare cry, alright Lannister?"

"Ok," he breathed out, unsure if he would keep that promise.

She pulled off her top, stopping multiple times along the way, wincing in pain. Next, she unhooked her bra, half throwing it at the nurse. She stood there, half naked for a moment, before taking off her pants. She looked to Jaime, and, as she hooked her thumbs around her blood stained panties, he saw the tears brimming in her eyes.

"Here." She choked out.

"Alright, now just stay standing for a moment as I check for debris." The nurse walked around her, looking up and down for anything to be taken off her body. With a brush and a tweezer, she collected bits of gravel that had embedded in Brienne's back. "Here's a gown for you to put on. Go ahead and sit back down. Now, I need to collect samples from beneath your fingernails."

As the woman took a wooden scraper to each of her fingers, Brienne tried to remember. Did she scratch him? Had she been that smart?

"I have to take some hairs from your head." She did so. "Next is the saliva samples. I need you to open your mouth for me." She swabbed Brienne's cheeks multiple times. "Put this paper in your mouth, saturate it in your saliva, and then place it on this tray." Brienne did as she was told.

"Now, unfortunately I'm going to need you to take off the gown again. I need to collect any dried fluids on your body." Brienne nodded and removed the robe, as Jaime positioned himself to look away from her body and just at those blue eyes.

"Dr. Tarth, is there anywhere specifically I should be looking? Anywhere he…"

"Left his seed? Check my left cheek, my inner thighs…and you should have me turn over and check my back." Jaime thought he might be sick, but he squeezed her hand tighter. The nurse slowly swabbed the areas, collecting what she could. Brienne knew most of the blood would be hers, but hoped that somehow they'd get lucky. His semen would be all over her, she knew.

"Let's go ahead and have you turn over." She positioned herself so that her head was facing Jaime, and laid on her stomach. "Good call, Dr. Tarth. There's certainly something here." Jaime watched as a tear slid down Brienne's face.

"Now, these next few steps are the worst, but I'll try to move as quickly as possible. Are you sure you want Dr. Lannister to stay."

"How bad is it going to be?" She hardly spoke but the nurse heard her.

"First I'll be combing through your pubic hairs, then I'll have to pull some of those as well. Next, I'll swab the outer parts of your genital area. Then, Dr. Tarth, I'll have to ask, where was there penetration?"

She looked away from Jaime. "Everywhere." She choked out. He held her hand tighter and pulled it to his lips.

"Then I'll take samples from both places."

"Oh. Oh god." She felt a rush of emotion coming. "I think I'm going to be sick." She stood and practically threw herself over the trash bin. Jaime came to her side, pushing her short hair back from her eyes. When she was finished, he handed her a napkin to wipe her lips. She did, and that was when she finally started to cry. As she sobbed, he pulled her in tight to his chest and let his tears fall onto the top of her head. She settled herself quickly and pulled away from him. When her breathing returned to normal, she looked up at him, wide-eyed and frightened and said "could you please stay. I don't want to be alone."

"So long as you're sure that's what you want. I can call Margaery, or Sansa if you'd feel more comfortable. I'm sorry, I should have thought of that before."

"No. Please, Jaime. I don't…can it please be you?" She looked away. "If you can't handle it, I understand, I just…"

"Look at me, Brienne." She did. "I will be with you every step of the way, if you want me to be. I will help you through this. It's going to be ok. Just come back into the bed and keep your eyes on mine."

Brienne stood slowly, shaky on her legs, and sat back on the hospital bed.

"Dr. Tarth, I'm going to need you to put your feet up here for me." The nurse motioned to the stirrups she'd raised.

"Ok." Brienne started to move her legs, and as she spread them apart, she started to feel the pain.

He could see the pain in her eyes. "Just hold my hand tighter, ok? As tight as you want. Let me feel the pain."

The nurse was down there for what felt like hours to Brienne but was really just minutes. She'd never been so exposed, and she was thankful that Jaime had taken to watching her hand rather than her eyes as the light tears fell to the sides of her face. She was so ashamed.

"It's time to turn over." Brienne closed her eyes and positioned herself on all fours, as instructed. The nurse took two swabs and said, "it's over. Time for you to rest. I'll be handing over the kit to special victims officers once they get here.. As I've gone here, I've documented your injuries. Based on the blood I gather you were a virgin before this attack?"

Brienne nodded and Jaime looked at her, wide eyed. His poor, innocent Brienne.

"Alright, I'll make a note of that here. Now, in order for this kit to be processed, you'll need to recount your story to the police officers. I will call them now if you want to do that, but if you want to stop the process here, you can."

"Nurse Walker?"

"Yes dear?"

"Could you hold off on calling until after I've had a chance to shower and put on…new clothes?"

"I can do that. Dr. Lannister, if you could help me take the gurney down to the showers?"

"I can walk. I just need some clothes from my locker. We'll be fine from here, thank you." Nurse Walker left them alone.

"Do you want me to go get your clothes?"

"Could you page Margaery for me? I don't know where my pager is, it must've fallen off." She looked down.

"Sure." As he paged Margaery, he still didn't let go of Brienne's hand.

"Thank you."

"Anything."

She looked away from him as they waited. "I'm sorry for putting you through that. I shouldn't have come to this ER. I should've driven to Brigham and had them do the kit instead."

"Don't say that."

"I should've. You shouldn't have seen any of that. It was disgusting." _I'm disgusting._

"No. What happened to you may be disgusting, but being here for you certainly wasn't. I'm so grateful to have been able to do that. I'm so glad you trusted me enough."

"Of course I trusted you, Jaime." She turned back to him. "You're my best friend."

"Lannister? Are you here?" Brienne heard Margaery shouting from outside the curtain.

"I'll take care of it. Do you want her to come and see you?"

"Have her get my clothes first. Then yes. I want her to help me walk to the showers." Brienne was so quiet now.

"Ok." Jaime stepped out of the enclosure. "Hi, Margaery."

"Lannister, what do you need? You paged me 911." She sounded exasperated.

"Something's happened. It's Brienne."

"What happened?" Brienne could practically hear her face drop.

"She was…raped." He could barely get it out. "It's bad, Marg. She needs you to get her some clothes from her locker and take her to the locker room showers."

"Has she done the…"

"Rape kit? Yeah, we just finished up with it. Gods, Margaery, she was so brave."

"She's always been the strongest person I know."

"As she is for me. I just wish she didn't have to be."

With that, Margaery walked away towards the lockers and Jaime went back to Brienne's bedside.

"She's getting your clothes."

"Uh huh. I heard."

"Oh."

"When I go shower, can you…never mind."

"Can I what? I'll do anything, Brienne."

"Just, could you not go too far?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, could you stay in the hospital and wait for the police to get here? Could you stay with me while I tell them what happened?"

"Of course, Brienne. I was never going to leave you."

"Jaime?" Margaery called from outside the curtain.

"I'll be back." He stepped out. "What is it, Margaery?"

"Were these yours?" She held out the bouquet of flowers he'd left in the locker room.

"Oh, god." He choked. "I'd almost forgotten. If you'll excuse me. You can go in to her. I just have to go throw these out."

It wasn't supposed to be like this.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Brienne was still in the shower when the police arrived. Jaime watched as they approached the nurses' station and as Nurse Walker handed them the rape kit. Two men, dressed in police uniform, waiting for Brienne to tell her story. Who thought sending men on a rape interview was a good idea?

"Jaime, I need you." Margaery pulled him up from the floor of the hallway and pulled him into the locker room.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't get her to come out of the shower. She's just standing in there scratching at herself under burning hot water. I tried to move her but…" He'd already gone into the shower room.

"Brienne?!" He shouted and headed towards the only shower that was on. He opened the curtain. "Stop that!" He pulled her hands away from her holding them up and far from her skin. She tried to pull them back, but he put his hands under her armpits and pulled her from the shower. He held her to him and sat on a bench, shouting "Margaery, get me a towel!" She came in and tossed him one and he covered her up, looking down where he'd been forbidden to before and seeing the mess of scrapes and bruises that painted her new colors. Once she was covered he held her to him again, saying "what were you thinking?! You were hurting yourself!"

"I'm sorry, Jaime. I just want him off of me. I just couldn't get him off of me." She sobbed into his shoulder and he sensed her double meaning. He smoothed down her hair with the hand he didn't have wrapped around her. "Shh, my girl. It'll be okay. It'll all be okay." He sat with her like that until her body stopped shaking.

"I think the shock has worn off." She whispered. He looked down her back and saw the places where the hot water had singed her skin. He'd seen bodies like this before on patients, bodies with bruises and cuts and red patches. He'd always known how to look at bodies like this…how to treat bodies like this…patients like this. Here he was at a loss.

Margaery interrupted is thoughts by speaking. "Here are your clothes, Bri. The police are here to take your statement."

Brienne lifted her head from the space in Jaime's neck and reached out for the clothes. "Thanks, Marge."

"Always. Come get dressed. I know you're fine in scrubs, but Sansa should be here soon with some sweats if you'd like to change. She's headed back to the apartment now."

"Stop her!"

"What?"

"Don't let her go there." Brienne swallowed, standing and taking the scrubs from Margaery's hands. She turned to walk out of the room.

"Is that where it happened?" Jaime whispered. She stopped herself and nodded. "I knew that place wasn't safe for you to live in! Damn it!" Brienne walked out of the room and started to dress as Jaime walked over to the far wall and kicked it. "Don't let her go there, Margaery. He could still be nearby. And it's a crime scene."

"I'll call her now and tell the police where to go." Margaery was all business and left in a hurry.

Once she was dressed, Jaime followed Brienne out of the locker room and over to the nurses' station. "I'm Dr. Tarth. I believe you're here to interview me."

"Yes, ma'am. Is there somewhere private where we can talk?" The two men looked surprised at her, and she knew they didn't believe that she could've been raped. She was too large to be overpowered. Too ugly to be desirable, even for a rapist. She walked along the hallway, placing one foot in front of the other on top of the blue line painted in the floor, looking up only to check for open exam rooms. When she found one, she walked in, sat on the bed, and had Jaime close the door.

She'd sat cross-legged on the gurney and from Jaime's point of view, sitting on a windowsill, Brienne looked small.

"Where should I start?"

"Let's start with basics. Where and when did the incident take place?"

"In the alleyway outside my apartment at around 10:30. That's when I usually leave for work."

"Can you describe your attacker?" She shook her head.

"It was dark. He was large, I know, and I think he had dark hair, but I didn't get a good look at him."

"Did he enter you…_vaginally_?"

She cringed. "Vaginally, orally, and anally. He wasn't particularly choosy."

"Clearly." The second officer said under his breath. Brienne heard, but thankfully Jaime didn't, or if he did, he didn't care to do something about it.

"Did he ejaculate either onto you or inside of you?"

"Both. Oh gods, I'm going to need the—" She looked at Jaime.

"—morning after pill. I know. Nurse Walker is preparing a cocktail of drugs for you as we speak."

"Oh." She looked down, shame washing over her at the thought of Jaime having thought through all of this.

"Where did he touch you?"

"He mostly just held me down. Used his knees to anchor my thighs and his arms to push down my shoulders."

"Did he hit you anywhere?"

She spoke slowly. "He slapped me in my face and held that down and to the side. When I tried to resist he punched me in the stomach a few times. Once he got off my pants, he kicked me between my legs. Said he'd get me wet one way or another. I tried to kick him off me, but that's when he pulled out a knife and held it to my throat."

"Alright, Ms. Tarth. Now, I'm going to need you to describe the attack in full. Start from the beginning and tell me any details you can remember. Anything specific he said or did. Whatever you can remember."

"All of it?" She gulped.

"As much as you remember. The details are important because it'll help us see if there's a pattern with any other victims." Victims. That's what she was, wasn't she. A victim. Pathetic.

"Do I… have to?"

"If you want us to catch the guy, then yes. If not, we can stop right here."

"Detective…"

"Martell, Oberyn Martell."

"Detective Martell, do you and your partner have to be in the room? Could you leave a…tape recorder or something?"

"Unfortunately, no ma'am. We have to be here. But you don't have to face us. Maybe you could tell your friend here the story and we'll just listen in?"

"No. No it's fine. I'll look at you. I can do this." Jaime wondered why she didn't take that option. Brienne wondered whether or not she still wanted Jaime in the room. She settled on yes so she wouldn't have to repeat herself later. "I was walking out of my apartment. I locked the door and started up the stairs when he pushed me down them and into the alley. I tried to get up but he pushed me down. That's when he slapped me. I tried to fight back, but a moment later he'd knocked the wind out of me and then he was…kicking me. He took my underwear off, then my shirt and bra. He shoved me down and he…" She was holding something back. Jaime could tell. "I tried to fight again and he pulled out the knife. I…I begged him to stop. I could feel him against my inner thigh. I tried to close my legs, and he pushed them open with his knees. He took the knife and carved an 'x' in both my thighs. Then he…" She shuddered again and moved on. What wasn't she saying? "I was a virgin, so I felt him tearing my insides. There was blood pooling at my thighs. He was pumping in and out of me and I felt him spill inside me. He…" And another. "When he finished there he told me to help him get it up again. He…held my mouth open and stuck himself inside. As I squirmed beneath him, he got harder and I choked. I thought I might suffocate but then he pulled himself from there and made me turn over. He told me to get on my knees and he entered me anally. He pushed my head into the gravel and pulled out before ejaculating on my back. When he was done he told me to face him again and he…he stuck the knife inside me. He told me not to move and he threw my clothes over my head. Then he…" And again. Why was she stopping again? What was he missing? What wasn't she saying? "He pulled the knife from me and wiped it on my hip. Then I heard him leave."

"And you're sure in all of this you didn't get a look at his face?"

"No. I mostly saw gravel, then the knife, and his…"

"Penis?" She'd always hated that word.

"Yes. Is that all?"

"That's all for now, Ms. Tarth. We'll call you if we need anything more. Here's my card if you remember anything else." They left the room. When they were gone he opened his mouth to speak. She jumped in before he could.

"Can we go now?" The question startled him. She sounded more forceful than she had just a moment before.

"Uh…sure. Where do you want to go?" His meaning dawned on her.

"Oh. I can't go home. Can we find Margaery and Sansa?"

"Sure." She got up and left the room without him. He followed behind. Margaery was sitting with Sansa on a bench in the hallway.

"Bri."

"Sansa." The girl ran to her and tried to embrace her, but Brienne pushed her away, then apologized. "Oh, gods, I'm sorry. I just…"

"No, I understand."

"Sansa, you can't go back to the apartment tonight. What'll you do?"

"I have room at my place. Brienne, we have room for you too if you aren't going home with Jaime." Margaery chimed in.

"I, uh…"

"Brienne," she looked at him as he spoke, "come home with me."

"Are you sure?"

"I want you there. I have plenty of room, and it won't be the first time you've stayed over. Plus…I need to know you're safe." He whispered the last part. She could see he was pleading with her in his eyes. She wasn't sure why he was so desperate to take her home, but she supposed it was some sort of savior complex and knew she'd prefer to have him there protecting her anyway.

"Ok." She didn't look at him.

"Then it's settled. Let's get you home."

The four of them walked out of the hospital in silence. Margaery had already explained everything to their supervisors, and ensured that Brienne and Jaime would be covered for at least for the next week. Brienne was going to need him by her side, she knew, and she was glad they had each other.

When they got to the parking lot, Jaime and Brienne sat in the car for a moment before he said anything.

"You were holding something back in there."

"What?"

"What was it that you didn't tell the police?"

"How dare you. I'm getting out. I'll go home with Margaery." He pulled her face towards him.

"Brienne, please. What did you hold back?" He was begging her now. "Please tell me."

"I…"

"You're my best friend, Brienne Tarth. All I want to do is help you, but…I need to understand everything to do that. Please, just…"

"He said some things," she looked away, "some, mortifying things."

"What did he say to you?"

"When he took off my shirt he said 'flat chested cow, I should've known.'"

"Brienne, that's—"

"As he carved the 'x's into my thighs he said 'x marks the spot, right? You should be grateful, that'll be the only evidence that you've ever had a man between your thighs.'"

"Oh good gods, Brienne."

"As he…entered me me, he said 'tight fucking virgin, not that it wasn't obvious from your face. Now at least you won't die a virgin. Don't you want to thank me?' And…he pumped harder and harder until I thanked him. And then, after he threw the clothes on my head… he pissed on me like I was _dirt_." She spit out the last word. "There. Are you happy now, Lannister?"

He grabbed her head and pulled it into his chest across the center console of his car. "Oh, Brienne." She shoved his chest and threw herself off of him. She would not cry again.

"Can we go home now?" She barked. Rather than respond, he put the car in drive. He looked at the clock. 2 AM. He took the long way home to avoid passing by her place, and they were at his apartment ten minutes later.

It took her a while to get up the stairs, what with the injuries to her thighs, and the deep soreness. When they got there, he followed her into the living room of his one bedroom apartment. She turned around.

"Can you lock the door behind us?"

"Of course." He did so.

"And each window?" She squeaked out.

"Absolutely. Come with me as I go." He grabbed her hand and they walked through the apartment making sure each opening was secured. Then he walked her into his bedroom. "Here. Take these." He handed her some sweatpants and a UCLA Bruins t-shirt. "You sleep in here, I'll be right outside on the couch if you need anything." He started to walk away.

"Jaime!" She called out to him. He looked up.

"Yes, Brienne?"

"Could you sleep in here with me tonight?" She whispered. He nodded his head, surprised at how bold she'd been. She must really be scared, he realized. Well, of course she was scared! How moronic could he be? But, she trusted him. She'd allowed him to hold her, even when she wouldn't let Sansa do the same; Sansa who'd been her friend since college, her roommate since med school. He was overwhelmed with the gratitude that he'd been the one she'd turned to. That she trusted him with all of this. He would not let her down.

In bed that night he held her hand, staying across the bed so as not to frighten her, but never letting go of her fingers. He watched her for a while, assuming she'd fallen asleep. Brienne assumed the same, but would not look at him. It was around the time that the sun came up that he realized she was awake, and she was crying.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

When she woke up, she looked and saw Jaime next to her, his hand still holding her own. His hair was long again, which she liked, though she hated to admit that she was jealous of just how goddamn beautiful he could be. He looked peaceful, so she slipped her hand gingerly from his and started to get up.

She walked into the bathroom, sat on the toilet, and as she sat she felt the pain between her legs. She closed her eyes. She'd forgotten for a moment. As she got up she made sure to avoid looking the mirror. How many more mornings would be filled with rememberings like this one? Would she wake up each day, see Jaime, feel her heart soar and then plummet when she remembered why she was here, why he was holding her hand, why she needed him to? She wouldn't cry.

She was hungry. She needed to eat. She walked in to the kitchen and put bread in the toaster, then went to sit on Jaime's couch.

So, this was day two. Well, technically day one, it hadn't been 24 hours. She still felt…unclean but she didn't want to get up and shower. Her body was drained. She was exhausted, but she wouldn't try to sleep again for a while. What time was it? 9 AM. She'd slept seven hours which meant she'd gotten more sleep now than she'd probably get for a while. She didn't remember having nightmares.

She had dealt with rape victims before, people who'd been through things far worse than she had. She'd saved people who'd nearly been killed by assailants, convinced victims of domestic violence that their injuries weren't just slips of their husband's love…she'd seen worse than the marks on her own skin. Those were the real victims. She wasn't a victim. Quite honestly, what she'd been through was hardly of consequence. She'd be over it soon enough. After all, he was right, she was lucky to be rid of her virginity, after all, dying a virgin wasn't exactly one of her goals. How else was she going to lose it anyway? She only wished she had enjoyed it while she had the chance.

Why had he come after her? Brienne the Beauty, they'd call her, taunting, back in high school. She was certainly no beauty. Maybe this was all meant to be, a set of scars on display on the outside to reflect those she'd spent years burying inside. Fate. That's what this was. Karma, for some long forgotten sin, a lost patient, a botched surgery, something. This was what she deserved.

This whole thing was her fault anyways. She should've been more careful. Sansa was always telling her to pay attention in the alley. She should have been watching. She should have had some sort of a weapon, some sort of protection. Like he'd said, she was asking for it. She was an ugly cow, that's what he called her. She needed someone to just fuck her already. Big girl that she was, why couldn't she have escaped him? She should have fought harder. She was well built. Strong. Solid. She should've gotten a leg up on him. Why didn't she push him off her harder? Why did she freeze? She should've fought. Should have scratched him. Should have bit him. Should've taken the knife and stabbed him.

_Should have made him kill her._

Why didn't she fight back? Why didn't she…

"Brienne! What's burning!?" Jaime had rushed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. "Ah! Fuck." He turned off the toaster and pulled out the burned pieces of bread, singing his hands as he did.  
"Brienne? Where are…" He saw her sitting on the couch and went over to her. "Brienne? What's going on?" He saw her on the couch and went to join her. She didn't move, even as his weight shifted the cushions. She didn't say anything, but he could see her thinking.

She calmed her mind and sat, picked a point in the wall to stare at. Just forget it, she told herself. It didn't feel real all of a sudden. She felt herself distanced from it. Her mind was cloudy, and she felt like she was having déjà vu. Maybe it wasn't real? That made sense. A bad dream. She felt a bit dizzy.

"Brienne, are you okay? Please say something." It took her a moment to respond, but then she turned to face him.

"I'm fine. Do you want toast? I'm making some." He squinted his eyes, confused.

"It was burning, Brienne, that's why I came out here."

"Oh," she frowned, "I'm sorry. I'll make some more." She stood, walking past him to get to the kitchen. She pulled out four slices of bread and walked over to the toaster, but stopped when she saw a small wisp of smoke rising from the machine. "I'll wait for that to cool. Do you want some orange juice?"

"Sure." He choked out, standing up to join her.

"No, sit." She called out. "I'll bring it to you." She pulled out the carton of juice from the refrigerator, sat it on the counter, and opened the cabinet above her to find two glasses. She stood, leaning against the counter for a moment.

"Brienne?" He said from behind her. She flinched, but did not turn to him.

"When did you get here?"

"I've been standing here for a couple of minutes now." He put his fingers on her shoulder. She turned around fiercely, throwing away his touch. "Are you okay?" Her eyes widened.

"I was pouring orange juice." She remembered. She started to move back towards the glasses but he grabbed her shoulders and held her facing towards him.

"Forget the orange juice." He wanted to shout it at her but couldn't. "Why don't you come back in the bedroom? We can talk."

She nodded, though she was surprised as she felt her head moving without being sure she intended it to. She followed him into the bedroom and sat on the bed, cringing as she bent her knees up to hug them as the movement seemed to pull at the scabbing 'x's on her thighs. She felt her skin flushing.

"You alright?" He'd seen her cringe. She hummed a little and nodded. "What's going through your head? Do you want to talk? We could just sit. I can make us breakfast, or we can order in. There's a really great place down the street I could call." He was babbling. "Do you need any medications? I have pain pills in the medicine cabinet." She interrupted him, and he was glad for it before he processed her words.

"I should have made him kill me."

She looked at him and he saw how haunted her eyes were. He sucked in a breath.

"Don't say that. Please."

"It's the truth." She looked down.

"No, Brienne. It's not. Please look at me." She did. "Brienne Tarth, whatever you are feeling now, I promise it will pass. You survived. You survived. You have no idea how much I thank the gods that you survived."

"I'm not sure I'm so grateful." He was taken aback.

"What? No, Brienne, don't say that." He pulled her to him.

"Why didn't he just kill me?" She whispered, shaking her head. "Why did he need to do all of this? I don't even know his name. What did I do to him to deserve this?"

He wasn't sure what to say, so he grabbed her and pulled her to him, embracing her and putting his lips to her hair.

"I'll never get past this. He'll always be _inside me_." He shook his head and pulled away from her.

"You survived, Brienne. And you will get past it. We'll get past it, together, if it's the last thing I do." She looked at him with questioning eyes.

"Why are you doing this? This isn't your problem." She hesitantly slipped from his grasp.

He chose his words carefully. "You're my best friend in the world, and when bad things happen to you, they happen to me too. I'll be here through all of this." _Because, I love you._ She stopped for a minute.

"You shouldn't spend your time on me. I'm not worth it."

"Why? What makes you say that?"

"Have you looked at me? I know you have, now you've seen all of me, so I know you know I'm ugly, and now I'm not just ugly but I'm ugly and broken and it's all my goddamn fault." She got up. "I mean look at you, Jaime. You're gorgeous and kind and whole. You shouldn't waste that on me." She stood, walking towards the bathroom, but he followed and grabbed her arm.

"Brienne, everything I am I owe to you." He whispered. He would make her see that, if nothing else. "You have to let me help you. Stop running from me because I won't fucking let you. He doesn't get to take you away from me, he's already taken far too much." He growled, the force of a lion in his voice. She stopped moving and turned towards him. He expected her to yell back at him and tell him she wasn't his prisoner. She would tell him she would do what she wanted. She would leave the apartment. She would run from the bedroom. She would tell him to go to hell. Those words didn't come.

Instead, she just whispered "okay," walked back to the bed,laid herself down, and turned away from him.

He left the room so he could breathe.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

It was a week after the assault that Jaime finally felt comfortable leaving Brienne alone. When he'd gone to work Friday night he'd left her under the care of one Margaery Tyrell. He and Margery had never really been friends, but she'd always been kind to Brienne, and he trusted she'd have her best interests at heart. Sansa Stark had taken care of Brienne a few hours here and there as well. The girls were roommates and friends, and so Jaime trusted Sansa as well, as little as he'd like to have to trust anyone at all. These past few days had been difficult on them all. Brienne spent much of the first days quietly going through the motions, but sometimes he'd see a glimpse of her usual self. Her soreness had subsided, as had the cringing that accompanied it. He hadn't seen her smile yet, though he supposed that was normal. Each time he'd returned after having left her with a friend, they had given him the same report. "She seems fine." They'd say, though they all knew Brienne was thinking a bit too much.

Today he was leaving her completely alone. He had no choice, Margaery was on shift at the hospital and Sansa had gone north to her parents' for the day. He'd checked with Brienne multiple times to make sure she'd be okay, and by the last time she'd gotten annoyed with him. "What am I, an invalid? She'd quipped. He'd laughed. If only for a moment, that was his wench.

He'd have to cut the cord someday. He supposed today was it.

So he left her in his apartment, making sure there was food in the refrigerator that she could just stick in the microwave when she got up. He didn't want to wake her. Their sleep schedule had been wholly off kilter since the incident and if she wasn't waking up screaming, he certainly wasn't going to interrupt her dreams.

He hadn't known it was possible to love someone this much.

As he drove to the hospital, he remembered when he told Cersei he loved her. She'd laughed and said "of course you do, brother. You're mine." And he had been. He'd been so wrapped up in the sick beauty of their love. They came into the world together. They belonged together. He'd actually believed those words until he understood she didn't mean them. Cersei was beautiful and unspeakably cruel. She was shamelessly calculating, unable to resist a chance at manipulation. She always had control, over her husbands, over her children, over him. To this day he couldn't be sure which of those babies belonged to him. Joffrey? Tommen? Myrcella? All three? They'd never really be his anyways, and Cersei was to blame for that. As far as he was concerned, he'd never see them again, if only never to see _her_ again. He knew now that that wasn't love. It never had been. Sure, he'd loved her body, her mind, the way they'd been in sync with one another, but he hadn't truly loved her, because he wasn't the type of man who _could_ love back then. They were only in sync because he was so…depraved, so selfish, and she was just the same. He would have done anything for her, but it wasn't because she was worthy.

Now, Brienne was so much more than worthy. She was kind, thoughtful, unassuming, yet strong. She hadn't judged him, hadn't questioned him, hadn't backed down from a fight. She was the most supportive, independent person he'd ever encountered, and he became better just from the exposure to her. Brienne was the love of his life, and to watch her suffer was worse than any suffering he could have faced himself. Maybe he shouldn't have left her.

She woke up at 10 pm, when she heard the door close behind Jaime. He must have left early for his 11 o'clock shift. They usually had the night shift together on Tuesdays, but…well, after what happened a week ago, who knew when that would resume. She missed him already. Maybe she should go see him at work. Maybe she should go to work! After all, she wasn't feeling normal, perhaps she had to get back to her normal life. She picked up the phone and dialed.

"Dr. Simmons." She heard.

"Hello, Dr. Simmons, this is Dr. Tarth. I was wondering if you're short staffed for tonight?"

"Yes, we are. Why?"

"Could I come in and work a shift?"

"Well sure, Brienne, but are you sure you're ready for that?"

"Yes sir. I'll be in at 11. Oh, and could I ask a favor?"

"Of course."

"Please don't tell Dr. Lannister I'm coming in. I'd like to surprise him." With that she hung up and dialed Margaery.

"Hey, Bri."

"Marg, can you drive me to the hospital?"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. I'm going in to work."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" She dragged out the last word for emphasis.

"Yes. Now can you drive me or not?"

"Ok. If you say so. I'll be there in 20."

Brienne wasn't sure what she was expecting, but it hadn't been this. Pity. She could see it on everyone's faces. They all knew what happened to her and they felt pity. She figured that most of them would know, but she didn't think they'd be so goddamn obvious about it.

"Dr. Tarth?" Nurse Walker was approaching her.

"Yes, nurse?" She tensed.

"There's a patient in bay 4 who has yet to be seen." Brienne breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'll go there right away, just need to sign in at the nurses' station. Thank you."

Standing at the nurses' station was none other than Jaime Lannister himself.

"Dr. Lannister."

"Brienne," he whispered, "what are you doing here?"

"I'm picking up a shift."

"Are you sure you're—" She cut him off.

"Why does everyone keep saying that. I'm fine. I have a patient, if you'll excuse me. Ada," she called out to one of the nurses, "can you sign me in?"  
"Well, sure dear. You're back to work so soon!"

"Yes ma'am." Brienne huffed, and walked to bay 4.

Jaime watched her from afar all shift. So far he'd seen her suture up a bad laceration, diagnose a concussion, and perform compressions on a heart attack patient, riding the gurney all the way up to the operating room. It was as though nothing had ever happened. She stepped back into the hospital and didn't miss a beat. Ten minutes later she was wrapping a sprained ankle. After the next hour she was intubating an infant as he worked beside her to stimulate its heartbeat. She was as spectacular as always, and they made quite a team as usual. This was the Dr. Brienne Tarth who'd amazed him two years ago. This was the woman he made sure to match schedules with each week in the ER. It was like he was seeing her for the first time and the millionth time at once. Maybe she was ok. Maybe she was perfectly fine. She could just be that emotionally strong, after all, she'd lost every member of her family…perhaps she'd just built up a thick skin. The next time he saw her she was calling to a nurse for an IV drip. She was back in action, walking these halls like she owned them.

At 7 am she walked over to him.

"Ready to clock out, partner? Shifts over." She flashed him a smile. The first smile. He couldn't read her.

"Certainly, Dr. Tarth. Let's go home." They walked to the locker room, grabbed their things, and headed for the door. He put his arm around her as they went, and when they stepped in the car he couldn't resist. "You were amazing in there. I'm so fucking proud of you." She shook her head.

"You shouldn't be proud of me, I just did my goddamn job. I just did my _job._" He could see her breathing was labored and then, suddenly, she was hyperventilating. "I just did my fucking job!" She choked out, holding her hand to her neck.

"Oh, Brienne." He got out of the car, running around it as fast as he could. He pulled her out of the front seat and opened the door to the back seat. He sat her down on the edge of the seat, letting her long legs dangle out into the cool air. "Breathe. Settle." He repeated these words, rubbing her shoulders and watching her chest fall into a normal rhythm. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Breathe, Brienne. It's okay, It's over." She shook her head vigorously.

"Jaime it was horrible. There were so many people, and they needed me and I can't do my job!"

"What are you talking about? You were incredible tonight."

"I couldn't stop thinking about it. I avoided bay 6 all night because that's where we did the rape kit." She stopped and looked at him, saying "Jaime, I don't know if I breathed for the whole eight hours."

"Brienne, you did beautifully in there, but maybe you weren't ready for this." He whispered. She closed her eyes.

"I wasn't. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry its taking me so long. I should be over this already. It wasn't even that bad."

"Wasn't that bad? Brienne, you can't lie to me about that. Don't lie to yourself."

"Jaime," she whispered.

"Yes?"

"I think I need to get help."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

A week later Jaime was dropping Brienne off at her first therapy appointment. He was really concerned about her and was surprisingly glad that she'd decided to get help. He hated to admit it, but at first he'd been hurt by the idea. Sure, it was natural for her to want professional help to deal with this…but wasn't _he _enough? He knew he wasn't now, as when he pulled up to the office building he counted the number of words she'd spoken to him this past week and didn't make it to ten. If he wasn't still sleeping beside her, he wasn't sure he'd notice her presence in the apartment at all. He tried talking to her, asking her questions, distracting her, but nothing worked. He prayed to the seven that this doctor would be able to ease Brienne's pain.

She'd been spending each day with the TV on but the volume low. He'd sit beside her filling out paperwork or reading the newspaper or just watching her. He wished he could be inside her head if only to know what she was thinking and perhaps to shield her from it. He'd ask her what was wrong and she'd shake her head. He'd ask her if she wanted to eat and she'd go make herself a meal. He'd go to work and come back to find her hours later in the same spot he'd left her in, watching the television but not seeming to be paying any attention. Hopefully this doctor would get her to speak.

He walked her up to the door of the building. "I'll see you in just over an hour. While you're here I'm going to stop by your apartment and get more of your things." He kissed her cheek and started to walk away, stopping when he heard her whisper.

"Thank you" She'd said. He paused, looking back, nodded, and then went on his way.

When he reached her apartment, Jaime realized just why Brienne wasn't ready to come back here yet. He hadn't even been there during her attack, but just looking in the alley he could picture it. In his mind he could see Brienne, Amazonian in height, pinned down by a man just a bit stronger, watching the pavement as he…

He felt hot liquid rising in his throat.

He entered the apartment and called out to see if Sansa was home. She wasn't, so he walked into Brienne's bedroom. He'd only been here a few times before. Even before the incident, Brienne would more often come to his apartment. After all, he had the xbox and an altogether bigger apartment. Usually when he came here he was relegated to the common area. Brienne had always been a private person. In fact, so as far as he could recall, he'd only been in her bedroom once before.

When was that? He tried to remember. He pushed past the fog of the recent days and reached back to the memories of the before. It was after her father had died. He'd come over with a pint of ice cream and a bottle of red wine which he'd brought into her room and watched her consume the greater part of. She didn't open up to him then. It took a few more months and a few more of his secrets for her to allow him that trust. That day in her room they just sat on her bed, drinking and talking about silly things like crazy patient stories or embarrassing medical school failures. He remembered the way her eyes closed as she laughed when he explained how he'd come to go to medical school, a story mired with late teenage angst, rebellion against his father, and a series of alcohol induced internet searches for careers which would make him money.

_"Of course that's how you got here." She laughed. "Why else would a guy like you become a doctor?"_

_ "I like saving people!"_

_ "You like being a hero."_

_ "Same thing." He pouted._

_ "Not quite." She laughed again and took a swig of wine from the bottle. Maybe he should get them glasses._

_ "Yes it is. And I'm damn good at it." He pulled the bottle from her and drank for himself._

_ "Whatever you say, Lannister."_

_ "Give it up, wench. I'm the best you've seen and you know it."_

_ "Don't flatter yourself. I learned from the best. You're a close second." She smiled, knowing she'd given him too much of an ego boost with that."_

_ "Second to who?" He asked, indignantly._

_ "My father."_

They'd sat in silent for a while after that.

He looked around the room, noticing the things he'd missed that night. Her walls were painted blue and she had cold hardwood floors which she hadn't covered with rugs or carpeting. She slept in a full bed. It was black iron with two black nightstands on either side which matched her dresser. On one nightstand he found a book she'd been reading and decided to pack it for her. In that drawer she had a notebook and pen, and he packed those two. He then went over to her dresser, picking out four things from each drawer: four pants, for shirts, four sets of underwear. He grabbed her brush from the top of the dresser, along with some lotion and a necklace he remembered was her mother's.

It was when he approached the second nightstand that he saw it. Sitting beside where she slept was a photo of the two of them from Margaery's birthday party. They looked so incredibly happy. He remembered how beautiful he thought she looked in her short gold dress. She hadn't framed it, hadn't bothered to put it in some place of honor. She'd simply printed it on plain white paper, cut it out messily, and leaned it against her bedside lamp. When he picked up the picture, he sat down on her bed and noticed he had tears in his eyes.

"Jaime? Are you here?" Sansa called as she walked into the bedroom. "Oh, good, you're here. Did you pack up her things?"

"Yes," he rubbed his eyes of the tears, "I packed."

"Jaime, what is it?" Sansa dropped her bag and sat beside him.

"I just found this picture and," he looked away from her and back to the picture, "I love her, Sansa. I love her so much, and I can't help her. I can't stop her pain. I can't make this go away. All my life, I could fix things, with money or with my charm or my medical training. I can't fix this."

"It's not your fault." It was. It was.

"I didn't give her a ride to work that night because I went to buy her flowers. I was so caught up in my nerves about finally asking her out that I let this happen to her. I left her to get hurt so that I could be selfish with her." Sansa's eyes widened. She hadn't known.

"You were going to ask her out. You were going to ask her out the night she was attacked."

"I had a whole plan. I knew what I would say. I've been in love with her for so many months and now…now I can't make things right. I can't tell her I love her, I can't ask her to dinner, I can't even fucking make her feel safe in my home without locking all the doors."

"You're doing so much more for her than you know." Sansa had seen it. She'd seen how much of his space and independence had been taken over by Brienne. She'd seen how comfortable Brienne was in his home. "Don't give up on her now."

"I have to go pick her up from therapy." With that, Jaime walked out of the apartment, through the dreaded alley, got in his car, and sped away.

"Brienne Tarth?" The doctor had peaked his head out the door of his office. She stood and gave a gentle smile, following him into the office. "Come on in and have a seat." He sat across from her, pulled out a notepad and pen, wrote something, and then started talking. "So, Ms. Tarth..."

"Doctor."

"Dr. Tarth, I apologize. Can you tell me what brought you here?"

"I was raped a little over a week ago outside my apartment."

He did not react. "Can you tell me more about that?"

She hesitated. "I guess…sure. I was walking out of my apartment when someone pushed me down. I tried to fight back, but failed, and so, he raped me."

"You failed?"

"At fighting back, yes sir."

"So this is your fault?"

"What?" She was affronted.

"Well, you failed, so you brought this on yourself, right?" Her eyes were wide.

"No."

"No, what?"

"No, I didn't bring this on myself."

"Good, glad we've got that covered."

"What?"

"Well, Dr. Tarth, every single rape survivor I treat comes in thinking it was their fault. That they brought this on. They didn't. You didn't. I just want to make sure you get that in your head."

"Ok."

"I'm not going to let you come in here and sit thinking to yourself, that's not how I operate. You've been through a tragedy, but I'm not going to let you drown in it, alright?" Brienne nodded, held her breath, and then let out the tears.

"I'm sorry. I just…"

"Don't apologize for crying. You're going to do a lot of that in here. Just think of each tear as a step in the right direction." Brienne fought to compose herself. "What are you thinking right now?"

"That that's exactly what I've been doing. I've been drowning in this."

"What makes you say that?"

"I feel like I've just been trying to let things be normal, but they aren't and it's suffocating me."

"What's changed?"

"What do you mean what's changed?"

"What's changed from before you were assaulted?"

"Everything. I don't live in the same place, I can't go to work, I can't sleep, I can't eat. The only thing that's the same is that I'm still breathing."

"Are you angry about that?"

"Of course I'm angry." She said, far more quietly than she intended to.

"Why?"

"Because he took everything from me." She looked to the side.

"Are you sure about that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did he really take everything from you?"

"I guess not everything."

"What do you still have?"

"I still have my life. I still have my future. I still have my friends, and Jaime."

"Who's Jaime?" Brienne wasn't sure how to answer that aloud.

"Jaime is the man I'm living with."

"How long have you been together?"

"Oh, we're not together."

"Okay, well then how did you come to live together?"

"He took me in, after it happened."

"After what happened?"

"My…rape."

"Good. You have to say the word."

"Why?"

"Because it's the truth."

"I guess I understand that."

"Why did Jaime take you in?"

` "I don't know. I mean, he was there with me throughout the rape kit, and the police interview."

"He was there for the rape kit?"

"Yes." She hoped he wouldn't probe that.

"How did that happen?"

"I asked him to stay."

"Why?"

"I needed someone to be there."

"You're a doctor, you know what a rape kit entails, and yet you still wanted Jaime to watch you go through that?"

"No, that's not what I wanted."

"Then why did you ask him to stay?" She wasn't sure. She thought for a moment and came up with her best answer.

"I didn't want to be alone, and I trusted him."

"Are you glad that he was there?"

"I'm not sure I would have done it otherwise…"

"That wasn't my question, Dr. Tarth. Are you glad that he was there?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm so ashamed."

"What do you have to be ashamed of?"

"I mean…he saw me fully nude," she flushed, "with all of the bruises and scratches and…fluids laid bare."

"How did he react to that?" She closed her eyes.

"He…he didn't really react. He just kept eye contact, gave me something to anchor myself to."

"Is he still your anchor now?"

"He is." She smiled, thinking of him.

"It's very good that you have that. I'd love to meet him sometime. You should bring him in for a session."

"I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Hasn't he been through enough, on my account?"

"Perhaps that's something you should ask him. Well, that's about all the time we have for today. I'd like to see you again sometime next week. Call me later to schedule." He stood, as did she.

"Thank you, doctor."

"You're welcome. Stay strong, Dr. Tarth."

"Call me Brienne."

"How was your session?" He asked, far too eagerly, as she stepped into the car.

"It was good. It gave me perspective."

"Yeah?" He smiled.

"Yeah. I'm sorry I've been so quiet this week, but when I got in there it's like my emotions exploded but somehow the doctor and I started to make sense of them. "

"Wow, that's amazing."

"It is. This is going to be hard but…for the first time I feel like someday I might be ok again."

"Oh." His heart swelled and he reached out and grabbed her hand, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. She squeezed his hand back.

"How are you doing with all of this? I know it's been a lot."

"I'll be ok, Brienne. I just need you to be." He squeezed her hand once more, let go, and put the car in drive.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

Three weeks after the attack, Brienne and Jaime were trying to find their way back to normal, and their friends had an idea. For Brienne, a sleepover with the girls; for Jaime, a night watching hockey and getting plastered with Tyrion. They'd both needed it, desperately. Brienne had decided to put on a happy face through it all. Whether or not it was fake? She wasn't sure. But she was glad to be with Sansa and Margaery, at the very least pretending to be normal.

"So, what are we watching?" Sansa asked as she walked into the living room carrying popcorn in from the kitchen.

"Not sure. I told Bri she had to choose because she never does but she's being indecisive."

"I am not! We've just seen all of these before. Mean Girls, Sleepover, John Tucker Must Die? As is we needed more estrogen in this room." They laughed. Was it okay to laugh? Brienne wasn't sure.

"Well, we don't have to watch a movie. We can play a game or just catch up. I'm dying to hear about your latest conquest Marge."

"New conquest?" Brienne looked inquisitively at Margaery.

"Oh, yes, Bri. Haven't you heard? Margaery's in love." Sansa practically sang the last word.

"Love. Really? I haven't heard that word used since the _last_ time Margaery had a boyfriend. What was that, 1 month ago? 2?" Brienne said, rolling her eyes.

"Will you two stop it? I mean it this time. I think this one might last. After all, he seems to understand just who's in charge of this relationship, which is not a common story among my childish ex-boyfriends."

"Interesting. What's his name?"

"Oh, she's not telling. You see, I think it's someone we know."

"Is it so wrong to want privacy?"

"When it comes to you, yes! Makes me think either you met this guy at some sort of torrid sex club, or you're dating one of my brothers!"

"Sansa!"

"Hey, Sansa's right. What are you hiding, Tyrell?"

"Nothing! And who are you to talk, holed up with the incredibly sexy Jaime Lannister?! Gods, girl, I'm sure your romantic life is far more interesting than mine."

"Romantic? Ha! There's nothing _romantic_ about me and Jaime, I mean…have you seen him? No, he's just a very good friend."

"I'd like that good of a friend." Margaery winked.

"I'm serious! We're completely platonic. Even he wouldn't sink this low." She whispered.

"Oh, don't say that Brienne." Sansa came to sit beside Brienne and put her hand on Brienne's left arm. Brienne got up and walked away from her.

"We're not talking about this. I'm going to get us some drinks."

Once Brienne was in the kitchen, Sansa whispered "why would you do that?"

"What did I do? It's not my fault!"

"Why would you ask about Jaime, right now? She doesn't need that."

"Come on, they're sleeping under the same roof, and you expect me to believe that that boy hasn't finally made his move?"

"It's not like they're living in sin, Margaery. They're only living together because of what happened to her outside our apartment!"

"That doesn't mean they haven't done anything!"

"Really, Marg? Think for a second. She was _raped_. You think that just a few weeks later she's sleeping with Lannister? She was hurt, badly. You saw her that night she was a mess! Jaime wouldn't take advantage of her like that."

"I guess you're right. I just…hoped."

"It's been three weeks. Give her time." Margaery stopped and looked down.

"I should've known better. "

"No, look I get it. But, we're here to distract her. Give her a change of pace."

"Sansa…do you think she'll ever be the same?" It was then that Brienne walked back in.

"No. I won't be." They saw water in her eyes

"Bri."

"It's fine. I'm going to go."

"Please stay." Sansa got up to stop her.

"This isn't working, Sansa. You can't distract me from this."

Margaery stepped in. "I'm sorry, Brienne. I really didn't mean to fuck this up. I just…you've been living with Jaime for a while now and I just hoped—"

"—well, don't hope, okay? Jaime and I aren't together and we never will be."

"You don't know that."

"I do, okay. I'll stay but if we're going to talk about this I need you to pour me some wine."

"Of course. Bri come sit." Sansa called from the couch as Margaery poured three glasses of wine for them all.

"I'm sorry I'm no fun, guys. I've ruined our night already and we've barely started."

"We don't need you to be fun, silly." Sansa smiled.

"Yeah. We just missed you is all." Margaery sat beside them on the couch and started to move her hand in circles on Brienne's back.

"I never thought anything like this could happen to me. Now I can't remember what it felt like, before."

"You'll get there."

"Yeah."

"I'm not so sure."

"You will. I know you. You're so strong, Brienne." Margaery laid her head on Brienne's shoulder.  
"I wish I felt stronger. If Jaime wasn't being strong for me, I'm not sure I would've made it this far." Brienne hated to admit this, but it was true.

"He's a great friend." Sansa remarked, thinking about how truly devastated Jaime had appeared that day in the apartment. "He cares about you so much. Watching you go through this…its hard on all of us, but…"

"But, what?"

"Well, I know Jaime stays strong for you, but maybe you should lean on us some more." Sansa looked off.

"Yeah, Brienne. We're here for you too."

"I know that. It's just that Jaime has been there from the beginning."

"Yeah, but Brienne, that's the thing. He's been there all this time and I don't think he's really gotten the chance to breathe. You don't realize this, but when you were…attacked…it's almost like it happened to him too." Brienne was confused.

"What do you mean?"

"I talked to him the other day when he came by to pick up your things. Bri, he's devastated. You're the most important person to him and you're in pain, so he's in pain."

"He's in pain?" She asked, taken aback.

"Is it all that surprising, Brienne? I mean, it hurts us to see you this way. Do you really think it wouldn't hurt him?" Margaery added.

"I didn't realize he cared that much."

"He's been with you since the beginning, hasn't he?"

"I know that." She took a long sip of her wine, finishing her glass. "I just thought he felt bad for me, and I guess I was okay taking advantage of that because I needed a place to stay."

"Well, you could've stayed here. Jaime knew that."

"I know." Brienne was suddenly confused. Why hadn't she been staying here?

"Jaime's taking care of you for a reason, Bri. He wouldn't do that out of pity." Brienne looked bewildered. Why would Jaime do this? He was a star doctor, good looking, he had better things to do than drive her to therapy and cook her dinner.

They were hardly living, she realized. She and Jaime spent most of their days inside. He'd put on the television to distract her. They'd play video games. At the beginning he'd help her with simple tasks when her injuries were hurting her. She spent a lot of her time in bed and he'd sit next to her, filling out charts with his right hand while holding hers with his left. He'd hold her when she cried, seemingly not bothered by her large size. He helped her bandage her wounds. He told her stories about his mother and his medical cases. He made sure she took her medications. How many shifts at work had he missed? At this point they'd watched seasons of different lighthearted shows that neither of them would've watched at any other time. There were days when they hardly said a word, and there were days when she fought him at every turn. He woke up with her multiple times at night when her nightmares left her screaming.

He hadn't asked for anything in return and he certainly hadn't gotten anything. Why was he doing this?

Sansa could see the gears turning in Brienne's head and spoke up. "Let's change the subject. Margaery, fess up. Who's the guy?"

"Nice try." They all laughed, and Sansa and Brienne returned to pestering poor Margaery about her love life.

Jaime had missed his little brother. Quite frankly he missed everyone. He missed the people who weren't Brienne who he didn't have time to see, and he missed Brienne too, because she still wasn't quite herself yet. He hadn't realized how lonely he'd been until his brother showed up with a six pack of beer and stories of his crazy life.

It was four beers, a single malt scotch, and three stories later before Tyrion asked the question he'd been marinating over all night. Jaime knew it was coming but he'd hoped he wouldn't be so drunk when the question arrived.

"So, Brother, I haven't heard from you in nearly a month. We usually talk once a day, and, not that I'm offended but, I wonder. What exactly is it that you have been up to?"

"It's a long story." He took another sip.

"Oh, I know. Three weeks and two days long to be exact. I guess it's good that I'm still in father's good graces and don't have to work for money, because I can stay and listen to the story, however long.

"It's…not a pleasant story, Tyrion. I don't want to ruin our night." Tyrion shook his head.

"You're not getting out of this, Jaime."

"I'm not sure that I'm allowed to tell. It isn't my place."

"Well, whatever it is, it's taken over your life so I _think_ you can talk about it. Plus, I'm your brother. You can trust me."

"I know I can, just…" he looked into his drink and wanted to drown in it, "it's about Brienne."

"Dr. Brienne Tarth. I knew you'd land her eventually, pining away after her for so long. Well, why didn't you tell me! Bedding Tarth for three weeks straight is your definition of not pleasant? My god brother you need—"

"I wasn't sleeping with her."

"You weren't? Then, what is it?" Jaime watched the door praying for an interruption he knew wouldn't come.

"Tyrion, Brienne was…raped." He swallowed the word, realizing it was the first time he'd spoken it aloud.

"What? Oh gods. Poor Brienne. What happened?"

"I shouldn't be telling you this."

"Jaime, you look like you're about to explode. You need to tell someone, might as well be me. I'll keep her secrets, and yours."

"Ok. Alright. I was working the night shift on April 23rd. She was late. I didn't know where she was and I was worried because I'd prepared a whole speech in the hopes of asking her out that night. It was an hour or so into my shift when I looked up and saw her. She had a bruise on her face, some other injuries to her arms, and there was…blood between her legs. She told me she needed a rape kit and I got a nurse and was about to leave her but she asked me to stay."

"During the rape kit?"

"Yeah. I was there for the whole thing. I saw everything…the bastard hadn't been kind about it. He cut 'x's between her thighs and forced himself into her in every way he could think of. She fought him but he had a knife. He made her thank him for what he was doing and, well, apparently she was a virgin before then."

"Gods."

"Yeah. The piece of shit tore her to pieces. He took from her and _humiliated_ her. I watched as the nurse took swabs from every inch of her. When she was finally allowed to shower she scrubbed herself raw and for a moment I couldn't get her to respond. Then the police came and she finally told the story…but they still haven't found the son of a bitch. I'll tell you if I hadn't been so busy taking care of her, I would have taken care of him already."

"It sounds as though it was…brutal."

"That doesn't even cover it. Four weeks ago she would've ran away blushing if I saw even an inch of her. That night, she was already so torn down that she didn't care. She didn't care what the hell I saw so long as she could look in my eyes and remember she wasn't alone." He watched a drop of water fall to his wrist.

"How is she now?"

"She's trying. She's trying so hard. She forced herself to come in to work and threw herself on a tail spin. I've been taking her for therapy and she seems to be improving. She's talking more and seems to be sleeping more than just moments at a time. But sometimes I look over at her when she's not paying attention and I can see that she…she can still feel him inside of her. That's how she describes it."

"That's terrible, Jaime. I am so sorry."

"Don't. It's terrible, but it didn't happen to me. If you want to tell anyone you're sorry tell it to Brienne. God knows I owe her an apology too."

"What for?"

"If I'd given her a ride as usual, this wouldn't have happened. She'd be fine." Tyrion's eyes widened, and he put his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"You can't blame yourself. You couldn't've known. And lord knows it seems you've been torturing yourself enough as punishment. Have you been spending time with her?"

"She's been staying with me. It happened outside her apartment, so I wouldn't let her go home."

"Oh. That makes sense. Where is she tonight?"

"She's with Margaery Tyrell and Sansa Stark. They're having a sleepover to distract her. I just hope she sleeps at all."

"Have you been sleeping?"

"Sometimes."

"Brother, you need to take care of yourself."

"I know. I am. If I don't take care of her I won't be able to take care of myself."

Tyrion looked over at his brother who was circling his finger around the rim of his glass. He was torturing himself, but until he made that last comment Tyrion hadn't realized he was doing it because he was in love. He wondered if Jaime even knew it yet. Probably. Jaime wasn't a fool, or at least not a fool when it came to matters of the heart. Though he'd never admit it, Jaime was always the more emotional brother, he just put up a stronger façade. Tonight, however, it seemed that Jaime couldn't hold up his walls anymore, and Tyrion watched as he drank and cried.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

When Brienne returned to the apartment the next morning, she found Tyrion had left a note for her on the kitchen counter. "Sorry I missed you, off to see father. Jaime's dreadfully hung over, let him sleep if you can. –T."

What to do, what to do…hangover food. She put eggs on the stove and bread in the toaster, being sure this time to set the temperature on low. Looking into the bedroom she saw Jaime sprawled on the bed with both feet hanging off the edges and his head nowhere near a pillow. Poor baby, she thought, and returned to her cooking. The quiet of the morning was nice. It was almost ten but she guessed Jaime hadn't been too concerned about setting alarms. She was glad he had spent time with Tyrion. In her mind, Tyrion shared much of the best parts of Jaime. Kind, loyal, honest. Tyrion was probably the more honest of the two in all things except matters of the heart. Brienne knew Tyrion was in love with someone, but was far too fearful of rejection to approach her. So he drank, and sometimes Jaime drank with him. As was evidenced by his sleeping habits, last night it seemed Jaime outdrank his brother. Silly men.

She slipped the spatula beneath the eggs to test their readiness. Not quite. The toast rose, frightening her for a moment, such that she jumped a bit, and then fell into quiet laughter. Could anything scare her now? She laughed at the thought. She was like a baby rabbit, on the lookout for things that would not come, yet shaken by the slightest sound. She hoped her laughter hadn't woke Jaime. It hadn't. There he was still sleeping. She wondered what they'd done last night. Had they gone out to the pub, perhaps the place Jaime had taken her to on their first night of friendship? Maybe Tyrion had gotten Jaime to finally show an interest in women again. She felt a slight pang in her chest at that. Strange.

When the eggs were ready, Brienne set them beside the toast on a plate and poured a glass of orange juice for him, walking into the bedroom making noise as she went so as to wake him up.

"What? What's happening? Ow!" Jaime rose, feeling the splitting headache suddenly.

"Morning sunshine." She laughed. His hair was strewn about, covering one eye and sticking up in the back. He ran his hand through it. "Here, I've brought you some hangover food, so eat up. Let me get you an aspirin."

"Thank you. What are you doing back here so early?"

"Early? It's ten in the morning!"

"Really? It certainly feels earlier than that. Mm. Delicious." He dipped the toast into the egg yolk and shoveled it into his mouth.

"Glad you like it. Here." She handed him the aspirin along with his juice glass.

"You are a godsend, woman." He looked up at her.

"Yes, I can see that." She smiled brightly. "How much did you have to drink last night, Lannister?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Far too much, wench. Far too much. But what are you doing? You're not supposed to be taking care of me, I'm supposed to be taking care of you." He remarked, his voice trailing off at the end. She shook her head.

"Do I look hung over to you?" She threw back.

"No, it's just…"

"I'm fine, Jaime. Let me do this." Rolling her eyes, she moved away from him. She walked out of the room and returned with an ice pack for his head.

"I don't think I could possibly say no."

Throughout the morning, Brienne continued doting on Jaime, long after he'd told her not to. When his aches subsided they decided to turn on an episode of Sister Wives, a curious show that their venture into TLC had brought them to like.

They were a few hours into a TLC marathon when Brienne realized she needed to say something. She'd been thinking about Sansa's words all day.

"Jaime, how are you doing with all of this?"

"Oh, the hangover's better now, thank you."

"No, that wasn't what I meant." What did she...?

"Oh. You mean with your…attack?"

"I was raped, Jaime. You can say the word."

Jaime nearly choked on water. Sure, he'd said it in his head before—_Raped. Brienne was raped_.—but he certainly hadn't expected it to come out of her mouth. Had she said the word before now, or was this the first time?

"You've been avoiding the term, Jaime, and you don't have to."

"I haven't been avoiding anything." Had he been?

"You've been avoiding talking about the fact that I was raped. You've been avoiding talking about what's it's been doing to you. You're pretty good at avoiding things." What was she accusing him of?

"What is your problem?"

"My problem is I'm worried about you."

"_You're_ worried about _me_!? That's insane, Brienne."

"Is it? You try to push me to talk but I see you pulling away every time I mention the rape." He cringed.

"Will you stop saying that?"

"Stop saying what?" She stood from the bed and got up, walking to turn off the television.

"You know what, Wench. Don't fuck with me." He was standing now too. When had he done that?

"I'm not fucking with you Jaime. I need you to say it." She looked taken aback.

"Why, Brienne? What the hell will that do?"

"Maybe it'll get you out of this hole you're burying yourself in. I can say it. I was raped. Why the hell can't you?"

"I don't—"

"Come on, Jaime. I was raped. Raped. Raped. Raped. Why can't you say the word?" She kept repeating that word. She was taunting him now. She'd gotten under his skin, and she knew it. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction. Wouldn't say it.

"Because it's ugly, Brienne!"

"What's so ugly about it?" She threw back in his face. She was angry now, he could tell. What was _ugly _about it? He hadn't thought about the definition of the word before he'd said it.

"The whole thing, wench. The sound, the concept, the fact that it happened to _you_. Gods, Brienne why do you need me to _say_ it?" He turned away from her.

"Because I need you to know that it's real." She whispered. He turned back to her. He was aflame.

"That it's _real_? Wench, you think I don't know this is real?! Don't you remember walking into the hospital all bloody and falling into my arms? Don't you remember making me watch as you took off your clothes in the examination room? Don't you remember me holding your hand as you spread open your legs so the nurse could take a look inside? Don't you remember rubbing yourself ragged in the shower, or sobbing in the car, or vomiting in the garbage pail? Don't you remember I was _there_?! I was there every step of the goddamn way, Brienne, so if you think I don't know some hideous stranger fucked you six ways from Sunday, shoved your face in the dirt, carved up your thighs and left you for dead, I do. I know you were _raped_ Brienne. I think I know that better than anyone." He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. He'd said it.

_Finally. _She thought, taking the two steps forward to close the gap between them and putting her arms around his shoulders.

"Dammit, Brienne." He stood there in her arms, not moving, not giving her the satisfaction of wrapping his arms back around her.

"I'm sorry." She stepped away from him. "I just needed you to just say how you're feeling already."

"Why?" He didn't understand it. This wasn't a big deal. He didn't have a problem here, she did.

"Because neither of us need to go through this alone, but you need to realize it isn't your job to hold me up and be strong." Of course it was. She'd asked him to hold her up all this time, was she asking him to stop? She couldn't be. She needed him, didn't she? That was his job. To be what she needed.

"Yes, it is." He shook his head, walking over and sitting back down on the bed. He couldn't look at her, but he felt the bed shift with her weight.

"No, Jaime. Remember what you said about needing to take care of me this morning? That's the problem. You can't throw yourself into this the way you have been. It means everything to me that you have…but this is my battle, not yours." That hurt. That fucking hurt. Of course this was his battle, he loved her.

"It's my battle too. Why are you saying this?" He put his hand on his forehead, leaning against it.

"You need to let me fight this, alone. Otherwise I'll never be okay on my own. I mean, it's…I can't live here forever, you know? I have to be okay without you." She didn't. She didn't have to do anything without him.

"Huh." He couldn't say it.

"You just keep protecting me and I need you to stop. You don't have to shield me from what you're feeling. I'm a big girl, I can take it." He shook his head.

"But, I want to help you."

"And you have!" She sat him down beside her on the bed. "It's just…I need you to see that I'm doing better. I don't feel the same way I felt right after it happened. I don't feel so much like it was my fault. I don't feel so helpless. I need you to stop treating me like a victim." Was that what she thought he was doing? He hadn't meant to.

"I didn't mean to."

"I know. I want you to know that I get it now. You're going through this too. But I want you to tell me what you're going through. I need you to let me in. And it's not just that. You need to let me contribute here. We'll split the food shopping and the cooking. Plus, I can have Margaery take me to therapy from now on. I can take my own medications, too."

"I guess that's fine. I'm just not sure that I understand."

"It's not that I don't appreciate what you've been doing, or that I don't still…need you. It's just that I'm going to have to learn to be whole again, and I can't do that if I keep leaning on you."

"Okay."

"I can't need you forever."He looked away. She could. Why didn't she see that? Didn't she know by now? "Do you mind if I try to sleep for a bit?" He breathed heavily. It was over.

"No. I think I'll join you." He got up and turned out the light. When he lay down in bed, he tried to steady his breath and his mind. It was as though she'd left him. Suddenly, he felt a wave of relief pass over him as he felt Brienne reach out for his hand. He held her hand, trying not to grasp too tightly to something he wouldn't have much longer. The thought scared him. If he was honest with himself, he wasn't sure he could sleep without it now, either.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

Jaime's insecurities about his tenuous friendship with Brienne nearly subsided when they went to the police station. Detective Martell had called to tell them he needed to speak with them, but refused to give Brienne a reason for the trip. Jaime was worried, but still he was grateful she'd asked him to accompany her. Though they were still living together, she'd been trying so hard to be independent lately that he felt as though the only time he'd seen her was when she was sleeping beside him. She was back at work. Margaery was taking her to therapy. She was cooking meals alone. Brienne almost looked like the woman he'd fallen in love with: strong but gentle and unreasonably kind, especially to him who did not always deserve it.

"Are you ready?" She asked.

"Yes." He picked up a sweatshirt and followed her out his door, where she got in the driver's seat before he could argue. "Martell still not tell you what this is about?"

"No." She spoke too quickly.

"Are you nervous, Brienne?" He said her name like a prayer.

"I'm not sure that I shouldn't be."

"What are you thinking?"

"Nothing, Jaime."

He wanted to push her but felt uncomfortable. He hadn't pushed her to talk since her tirade the other day. Perhaps tirade was the wrong word. No. Tirade. She'd completely overwhelmed him with these sentiments and would not let up, and he was…_angry_ with her. He felt bad about it too. Was he allowed to be angry with her? Was he allowed to be angry at all? They pulled up at the station and she put the car in park.

"Are you ready?" He looked over at her.

"Yes." She said, but didn't move.

"Are you sure?"  
"Yes." This time she opened the door. When he saw Detective Martell's face, he knew there was nothing good coming. Did they have him? Did they need an identification?

"Good morning Ms. Tarth, Mr. Lannister."

"Detective Martell." Jaime nodded.

"What is it?" Brienne thrust the words into the air.

"Would you like to come into our victim/witness room?"

"Just tell me here. What's going on?"

"Ms. Tarth, I really think we should go into the lounge. Please follow me." They sat down on a couch and Jaime looked around the room. There were tissues, children's toys, and far too many throw pillows. They looked expectantly at the handsome detective. Jaime was momentarily annoyed with him for looking so nice, but then came the bad news. "Ms. Tarth, I'm sorry to tell you this, but your case has gone cold."

"What do you mean, cold?" Jaime asked. Brienne gave him a sharp look.

"He means there are no leads. He means they've stopped looking." She turned back to the detective. "So that's it, then, right?"

"Well, yes. Essentially. Your DNA is still in the system, so if anything new comes to light…" Brienne turned to Jaime.

"Let's go." She practically sprinted out of the station and to the car. When he caught up to her, he watched as she kicked the left back tire five times before covering her face and squatting to the ground.

"Brienne." He tried to interrupt her thoughts. She stood up and looked at him.

"What, is it so shocking? I'm mad, Jaime. " She stopped yelling and leaned against the car, looking off to the side. "I'm mad."

"That's normal."

"No, this anger isn't normal. I'm so angry. I'm so angry" She was bright red. "He took things from me. He took things from me and I want to take things from him. But I can't. The case is cold and this bastard is free but I'm still not free of him and I'm so fucking angry." She turned back and kicked the tire again.

Jaime came up and wrapped his arms around her from behind, and after a few more kicks she stopped moving and turned in his arms to face him. She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You're allowed to be angry. Hit me if you want to, I'll probably hurt you less than the car will." He chuckled. She pulled back and tried to breathe. She needed to go somewhere. She had therapy. Maybe now was the time.

"I have therapy in half an hour. Care to join me?"

"In therapy?" He chuckled again and the smile wrinkled his eyes. She looked hurt.

"Yes, Jaime. In _therapy_. The doctor told me I should bring you at some point." He stopped smiling.

"Oh." _Why?_ "Well, of course. If that's what you want." She stepped out of his personal space and walked a few steps away.

"Now's as good a time as any, right?"

"Yes, ma'am. Let's go then. I'll drive." She handed him the keys and circled around the car to the passenger's seat. He put the car in reverse, backed away from the station and turned left out of the parking lot. Her doctor had told her to bring him to therapy. That meant that she must've mentioned him in there. What did she say? Well, based on her tirade, the doctor probably thought that Jaime was some hyper-protective egomaniac desperate to keep Brienne needy, so that was a pretty fucking good place to start. Damn.

He'd never been to therapy. Both his siblings had, Cersei after she'd done some horrible thing to some girl in high school, Tyrion later on in life to deal with both his killing of their mother and his lack of significant stature. Jaime was the simple child: good-looking, clever, and charming to boot. He hadn't needed to talk about his problems because he either had none, or the problems he had were unspeakable, as they were whenever they involved Cersei. Perhaps this would be good for him. He doubted it.

The waiting area outside the doctor's office was small, just two chairs and a table with a pile of old magazines and some pamphlets on different disorders and the like. The office was located at the back of what Jaime could only assume was the doctor's home, which he realized could be quite helpful for patients who needed privacy. After all, with such a small waiting area, you'd only ever see the people coming and going before and after your session. He looked at his watch and found that he and Brienne had just a couple of minutes before her appointment would start.

"Brienne?" She looked up from the magazine she'd been mindlessly flipping through. "Is there anything I should know before we go in there? I mean, what does this guy know about me anyways?"

She thought for a moment. "Well, he knows that we're friends. He knows I've been staying with you. He knows you were there at the beginning, though we haven't much talked about that part yet." He looked surprised.

"Then what do you talk about?" He whispered.

"We've gone over the details of the attack a few times. We've talked about my family. We've talked about my friendships. My coping mechanisms. Mostly we just talk about what has happened most recently and go from there."

"Are there…rules?"

"No. Just honesty." Jaime gulped and hoped he could do that.

"Hey, Brienne. Come on in." The doctor had peaked his head out of the door to his office. "I see you've finally brought someone along."

"Yes, this is Jaime." She reached her arm out gesturing towards him. "Ah, wonderful. It's nice to meet you." The man extended his arm for a handshake. Jaime reciprocated, shaking it. "Right, then, well the two of you come on inside." When they got inside, Jaime noted that they would be separated onto two separate recliners. She took the one closer to the wall, and he assumed that this was where she normally sat. He sat himself down in the other. Too comfortable, he noted. He'd never been much for recliners: they were far too ugly for their purpose.

"Ok, well Jaime I'm glad we have you here. Why did you decide to come?" Why was he getting the first question? He tensed.

"Because Brienne asked me to."

The doctor scribbled something in his notes.

"And who is Brienne to you?"

"What do you mean? Hasn't she told you about me? I thought that's why I was here?" He smirked, not knowing how anxious he sounded.

"She has, and I know who you are in her world, but who is she in yours." He paused and thought for a minute. How could he call her the love of his life in not so revealing words?

"She's my best friend. No, that's not right." Brienne looked hurt despite attempts at subtlety. "No! No, of course you're my best friend but, I've had lots of best friends in my life. You're not just another of those." She gave him a tight lipped smile which he caught out of the corner of his eye.

"How is that?" The doctor asked.

"I guess...if something were to happen in my life, Brienne would be the first person I'd go to. She's the one person, aside from my brother, who I'm not sure I could live without. I certainly wouldn't want to."

"Is that why you took her in after the incident?" Was it?

"In part, sure."

"And what were the other parts?"

"Well, I'd been with her through the rape kit, and the police interview. I'd seen everything." Brienne blushed. "I thought it would make things easier on her if she wasn't constantly having to tell someone what was wrong."

"Brienne told me that you were the first person she disclosed the attack to. What was your reaction when she told you?"

"I don't know. I think I just went into doctor mode."

"And during the rape kit?"

"I was just trying to help Brienne."

"Oh, I don't doubt that, Mr. Lannister, but what were you feeling?"

"Well of course I was upset." He trailed off.

"Go on."

"I...I'd been really excited to see Brienne that night. We used to work tons of night shifts together, and usually I picked her up. That night I didn't. And then I was watching her." He had to look away. "And the worst thing imaginable had happened. And I could see the pain in her eyes. It killed me." He whispered the last part, staring at the hand he'd rested on the arm of his chair. It was curled into a fist.

"Do you feel guilty that this happened?"

"Well of course I feel guilty, it was my fault." He looked up.

"What? No, it's not," Brienne jolted, aghast. "Tell me that's not why you've been letting me stay with you!"

"Of course not! But that doesn't mean it isn't true, I mean gods, wench, if I hadn't ran that stupid errand, you'd be fine!"

"You don't know that, Jaime." She quieted and shook her head. The doctor intervened.

"Brienne, how do you feel about what Jaime just said?" She paused to think.

"I'm...I didn't realize he felt that way. Quite honestly I hadn't even thought about the fact that you didn't give me a ride that night. Plus he's got one thing flat wrong, not that that's news." She scoffed.

"Yeah, and what's that?" Jaime challenged.

"It wasn't the worst possible thing that could've happened."

"What do you mean?" The doctor interjected.

"Well, I'm alive for starters. I'm glad that it was me who was hurt and not Jaime or Sansa or Margaery or anyone else. Plus at least it was a stranger."

"At least what was a stranger?"

"My...assailant. If he'd been someone I knew, I'm not sure I could've recovered. I've been talking to other survivors online. I'm not sure how those women do it. How do you trust after something like that?" Jaime wasn't sure how to process any of that.

"You feel that you can still trust people? Still trust men?"

"I trust Jaime, don't I?"

Jaime put his head in his hands.

"What is it, Jaime?" The doctor turned to him now.

"Why does she trust me? Gods, Brienne." Jaime turned to look at her. "Are you stupid? Why would you trust me after I let this happen? I used to be so horrible to you, and now I'm the reason you're in this room right now. I might as well have raped you myself."

"What is wrong with you!?" She shouted. "Seriously, Jaime, what the fuck?! Do you really think I could possibly blame you? You weren't even there, you couldn't stop it!" She was standing at this point.

"Exactly!"

"And god am I glad you weren't." She sat down.

"What?" Jaime was stunned.

"Brienne, what made you say that?" The doctor asked.

"I wouldn't have wanted him to see that."

"See what?"

"Me being raped. I can't imagine it was a pretty sight."

"Gods, Brienne, if I was there I could've stopped it. Plus, it's not like I didn't see everything during the rape kit, or in the showers."

"That was different."

"How?"

"He wasn't...inside me. Humiliating me. Making me thank him for it. By the time you saw me, I'd already been so degraded, it didn't matter anymore. The damage had been done and at that point I just...needed you." He looked over at her and saw the tears in his eyes were reflected in his. He wanted to hold her, but instead just held eye contact, as he had in the hospital that night. It was another minute before the doctor spoke again.

"Good. Now, Brienne, have you been eating?"

"Most days."

"Most days?" Jaime asked. She hadn't been eating? How had he not noticed? Brienne ignored his question.

"And you're sleeping?"

"Better."

"Have there been any developments from the police?" She sighed.

"Looks like the case is cold."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Mad. I want to get this guy."

"That's a natural response."

"I guess."

"Well, I guess the real question is…how do you feel about the possibility that you could never get justice for this?"

"I…I don't know. Like reporting it in the first place was a waste."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, it didn't get me anywhere. I mean, to be honest, the whole thing was a waste. The rape kit, me telling anyone that this happened…all for nothing."

"If you knew there was a significant chance you wouldn't get justice, would you have done things differently?" Brienne had to think about that one for a moment.

"Yes."

"What would you have done?"

"I would've bit him when he forced himself down my throat. I would've made him stab me before I let him get away unharmed."

"Then you'd be dead?"

"Who knows, but at least it would've been a fair fight. I don't know what I would've done, but I'm damn sure I wouldn't have gotten that rape kit. I wouldn't have told a soul. Why burden them?"

"It's not a burden, Brienne. And it's certainly better that you're alive, even if you won't get justice." Jaime interjected.

"I've been living in your apartment, sleeping in your bed, eating your food for weeks now. You had to watch all of that disgusting process, had to help me with simple tasks, had to deal with me screaming and crying and throwing hissy fits. How is that not a burden?"

"It's not a burden because I don't resent you for it. I never could. And I would do it all again. I'd be happy to have you there for all eternity if it meant you'd let me take care of you. I'd like to do more, even. I didn't realize you weren't eating, Brienne. Why didn't you tell me?" She reddened.

"I'm not sure."

"Well you're certainly going to be eating from here on out. I won't let you hurt yourself anymore." It was then that the doctor realized that Jaime was in love with Brienne, and he knew he needed to speak with Jaime alone.

"The two of you have done great work in here today. Brienne, I know this is your session, but I think I need to speak with Jaime for a moment alone. Would you mind waiting for him outside?"

"Not at all. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'll see you next week." Brienne nodded at the doctor, then at Jaime, and left the room.

"What is it, doc?" Jaime said as soon as the door clicked shut.

"You're in love with Brienne, aren't you?" Jaime was taken aback.

"Is it that obvious?"

"I didn't realize it until the end there, but I suppose it is, somewhat, yes."

"Either way, what does that have to do with anything?"

"It means you're more invested in this than most. People call this being a 'Secondary Survivor.'

What it means is that as a result of how close you feel to Brienne, in some ways you're going through the same things she is. Often secondary survivors go through many of the same feelings that survivor's experience. You can feel powerless, guilty, shocked, angry, or scared, and that's natural. My point is, you should probably be talking to someone as well. I'll give you my card, and on the back I've written the time and location of a support group meeting for secondary survivors in town this Friday. I think it would be good for you."

"Wow. Um, I didn't know there was a…term for this."

"Most secondary survivors aren't aware of how well documented their struggle is. You're not alone, and you really shouldn't be doing this alone. It's hard having someone lean on you to get through this. Make sure you're leaning on someone as well." Dr. Payne handed over the card. "Now, go join Brienne and do something fun together. You both need it."

"Thank you, doctor." He walked out of the room and got into the car with Brienne. "Well, aren't you going to ask me what that was about?"

"It's confidential, Jaime. I wouldn't break that trust."

"Well, I appreciate that. But it's no big deal, the good doctor just thinks I should be talking to someone as well." She looked confused.

"Why, you're perfectly fine?"

"I guess I'm not."

"What do you mean?"

"You're right that this whole thing has been hard on me too. I couldn't just be okay after what happened to you…after what we've been through together. How would you have felt if something like this had happened to me?"

"Terrible, I guess I just…"

"Brienne, someday you're going to realize that you mean just as much to me as I mean to you. Maybe even more." He drove with his left hand and held hers in his right, and was surprisingly at peace with what he'd learned today. Somehow he knew things were getting better, and he was truly relieved to be heading home.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

"You need to eat." He implored. She hadn't eaten all day. She hadn't eaten enough yesterday. She hadn't been _eating_. How had he not known?

"Jaime, I'm not an imbecile, I can decide when I want to eat." Brienne said, sternly.

"I'd agree with you if you'd consumed a single calorie today."

"It's still the morning. There's plenty of time." She rolled her eyes.

"It's 11:30, most people have had a meal and a half by now." He walked over to her and put his right hand on her left wrist, subconsciously checking her pulse. She ripped her arm away.

"Since when have I ever in any way resembled 'most people?'" Brienne walked out of the kitchen and into the living room where she sat down and turned on the television. He went up to the tv and turned it back off, standing in front of it. He turned back to her and looked down.

"Brienne, please eat something."

"No," she spat, indignant, "I'm not hungry, I'm not eating." He walked to the couch and sat beside her. He looked her over.

"You're getting too thin. You need to eat." He whispered.

"Jaime Lannister, my weight is not even remotely your business." She stood sharply and walked into the bedroom, seemingly appalled. He stood and followed her.

"It is if you aren't being healthy. Are you trying to lose weight?" He was yelling now.

"No." She scowled at him.

"Well good, because you looked just fine as you were ten pounds ago, and in order to gain that back you'd better eat." He crossed his arms and stood wide-legged, triumphant.

"Are you saying I don't look _fine_ now?"

"You look unhealthy!" He threw his arms out to the sides. "I can see your ribs through that tank top!"

"Most men prefer a thin woman."

"You were already thin before! Will you stop making this about me, you said yourself you aren't trying to lose weight!"

"And I'm not."

"Then clearly your weight loss is as a result of you dealing with what happened to you and I told you I won't let you hurt yourself anymore."

"I'll eat later, Jaime. Gods, could you possibly be more overbearing? You're not my fucking father!"

"Oh, wench you're going to get it for that one. My _age_? Really?"

"Don't act so shocked, old man." She smirked.

"Fuck you. I'm just trying to help you!" He was angry. He was really angry.  
"I can feed myself, Jaime." He pulled her arm, forcing her to face the full length mirror in the bedroom.

"Clearly you can't! Do you see these? These are ribs. I'm not supposed to be able to see those. Or here, your hipbones." She turned out of his grasp.

"I don't need this. I'm out of here!"

"What do you mean, you're out of here?"

"I mean I'm going back to my apartment. I'm going home. Clearly its time." She grabbed her duffle bag and started to clear the drawers he'd made for her of her things.

"Will you stop it?"

"No, Jaime! I can't do this. You're not in charge of me, I'm a grown woman who's done fine on her own for years now. I don't need a family, I don't need a father, and I certainly don't need you." She zipped up her bag and walked out of the bedroom.

"That wasn't what you told the doctor last week!" He threw at her.

"Oh screw you. I can't believe I thought you'd changed. Two years later and you're still the same prick you've always been." She walked out of the front door, slamming it behind her. He watched through his open window as she called for a taxi. He had to follow her. She might be pissed at him but he knew she was going to be reeling if she got back to that apartment. She hadn't been to the scene of the assault since it happened and he knew that even if she was ready to face it, she didn't know what the hell she was getting herself into. He grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter and walked out to his car, driving as fast as.

Was she going to be okay? Was she going to see what he saw there?

Maybe she'd be fine. Maybe she'd be perfectly fine and ready to leave him for good. Maybe she'd walk right past where it happened and straight out of his life.

That wouldn't happen. He was being ridiculous. Irrational. Lovesick.

She needed him, didn't she?

He pulled up to the side of her building and saw her.

She was leaning against the wall of her building with her hand over her mouth. He parked the car and ran to her, not bothering to shut his car door behind him. Suddenly, she felt his hand on her shoulder

"I didn't know." She got out, barely.

"I know."

"It's just a place. I'm okay. I just…"

"I know."

"I could live here, but…" She calmed her breathing. "I don't want to. It isn't worth it."

"You don't have to."

"Can I…"

"Stay with me?"

"Just until I find a place." She was firm.

"Of course. No rush." No rush? _No rush?_ He wanted to slap himself for that. It wasn't just no rush. He wanted her there. He wanted her to stay.

"What's going on out here?" Sansa appeared behind Brienne. How had she known? "I saw your car pull up out the window. What's wrong?"

"We had a fight, and Brienne thought she'd move back here, but…" He gestured to the patch of pavement Brienne hadn't taken her eyes off.

"Oh, Bri, I'd been meaning to talk to you about that anyway." Brienne turned to her.

"About what?" She turned to Sansa.

"Well first, let's get you off the street. Do you want to go inside? Or maybe we can go get coffee?" Sansa didn't wait for a reply. "Jaime, why don't you drive with Bri to that little café down the street? I'm just finishing something on my computer, I'll go shut it down and meet you in a few minutes."

"That sound good, Brienne?" Jaime looked at her. She nodded, still not looking at him. "Alright, we'll see you in a few."

She spoke when they got in the car. "I'm sorry, I just didn't think it would hit me like that."

"It's okay. I'm sorry I was such a jackass about you eating. I'm just—"

"—worried about me, I know, but still…" He looked at her as they stopped at a red light. "I'm sorry for calling you old." He smirked.

"It's alright, wench. I'm sorry for being a prick. I hope you don't really think I'm still the guy I was two years ago." She shook her head.

"I know you're not."

"Good."

He parked the car and they sat at a table near the café window and watched for Sansa.

"I wonder what she has to say." Brienne remarked, still not looking at him.

"I don't know, but here she comes." Brienne turned as Sansa opened the door of the café, looked around, and sat down beside them.

"Does anyone want anything to drink? I'm craving a mocha frappucino and I'm buying." She smiled. Jaime shook his head, turning to Brienne.

"I'm good. Brienne, do you want anything?"

"If you could get me an earl grey tea and a croissant so I can shut this one up about my eating habits? That'd be great." She didn't smile, but he took that as a joke and shook his head, laughing lightly.

"Why don't you let me go order and the two of you can talk." Jaime said, standing.

"Good idea." Sansa said, handing him a twenty dollar bill and watching him saunter up to the counter. "So."

"So."

"I wanted to ask you what you're thinking about your living situation. Our lease is up next month and I think it's pretty clear that we shouldn't be living there anymore."

"I agree."

"I guess my question is this; I can afford my own place in Margaery's building, but I also know there's a few two bedrooms in our price range in that neighborhood as well. Essentially, I'm fine with whatever you need to do for living…but its probably not worthwhile if you're going to be staying with Jaime. So what is it that you want to do?"

"Well…I don't know. I mean, the reason I'm staying with Jaime is because I can't live at that specific apartment, so I guess I wouldn't need to live there if we were living somewhere else."

"Are you sure about that? If that was all then you could've easily moved in with Margaery. You know that."

"Yes, I know…but do you think I'll still be so reliant on Jaime a month from now?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure that you're so reliant on him now."

"I think you're right. I don't want to jump too quickly…but I also don't think staying with him is good for our friendship anymore. He's overbearing and I can't take it anymore, even if he's right."

"I think you should talk to Jaime about this then, because I truly have no preference on this. I love living with you, but I could just as happily live alone if I knew you were happily living with Jaime."

"I think we should look for apartments."

"Yeah?"

"Even if I'm paying rent on a place I'm not using for another little while, eventually I'm going to have to move out of Jaime's apartment. I mean, goodness, he has one bedroom…I most certainly don't want to be there when he finds a girlfriend, there won't be any room for me. I don't think I'll want to still be living there six months from now, I mean…I almost moved out today!"

Sansa nodded, hesitantly. "That's true."

"Well, then. That's settled. We'll go next week." Jaime approached with their orders in hand.

"Yeah?" Sansa asked, as Jaime sat down.

"Yeah. I'll text you next week and we'll set up a time."

"Making plans without me ladies?" Jaime smirked. He didn't know. She wished he'd overheard so she wouldn't have to tell him.

"Yes, Lannister, forgive us. I mean, whatever would we do without _you_?" Sansa laughed at her own joke.

"As a proud member of the male gender, I promise you—I don't want to know." Jaime smiled, looking over at Brienne, his smile widening as he saw her eating the first bite of her croissant. She still didn't look at him.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11:

Brienne was out looking at apartments and Jaime was home, fuming. He hadn't come this far to lose her. He had noticed a change since they'd gone to her apartment, and he could feel her slipping away. She was pretty much doing everything on her own now, and she'd set up her schedule to be opposite from his. He hardly saw her except for the few hours they'd overlap in bed. He thought of the flowers he'd brought her that night. Not roses, Brienne was not a rose. He'd brought irises, a purple blue flower with a unique shape, yet beautiful. He'd seen them and known they were right. He hadn't gone through all of this with her just to turn back to the months before he'd bought those damned flowers.

In the strangest way, it was still the flowers that put her in his bed, still the flowers that brought them closer, just never in the way he'd planned.

He wasn't going to let her go. He had to change it back. To do it right.

He heard Brienne's key turn and open the door. "How was the first apartment?" He asked, insincerely.

"Good. You may be rid of me sooner rather than later."

"Yeah?" His heart sank.

"Yeah, the place was gorgeous. Kind of reminds me of here, but it's got great sunlight and is just a few blocks away."

"Well, if it's so similar to here, you could just…stay here." He grinned at her.

"Jaime, stop it. You know how dumb that sounds."

"It's not dumb at all. I like having you here, you're comfortable here, why go anywhere else?"

"Because! What happens when you get a girlfriend? Or when Tyrion stays the night? I can't very well sleep in your bed forever." She rolled her eyes, blushing a bit and pulling her purse off her shoulder before sitting next to Jaime on the couch.

"Well we'll see about that." He lunged for her, tickling her as she cried out and laughed.

"Stop! Stop!"

"What's the magic word?"

"Please?"

"Come on, wench, you know better than that." He was moving faster now and she yelped.

"Jaime Lannister is the king of the world!" He stopped tickling.

"There you go." He smiled with pride.

"Whatever, you dork."

"Now, wasn't that fun? I know Sansa won't be nearly that fun to live with."

"Sansa also won't be sexiling me to this awful couch as I'll have a room of my own."

"Sexiling you? Gods, wench, have you seen any women around here other than you…ever?"

"Well, no…"

"Then stop worrying about things that aren't real."

"Either way, it's not appropriate."

"Who gives a fuck about appropriate?"

"I do. And what if I were to get a boyfriend? What then?"

"That won't happen, I'd scare them away too fast."

"Why's that?"

"Because I'm so good looking. Who would want to compete with this?" He gestured to himself moving his hand up and down.

"They wouldn't be competing with you, silly."

"Well they'd certainly be intimidated by me, after all, I've had you in my bed more than any man."

"How do you know?"

"Seriously, Brienne. You're the most reserved woman on the face of the earth."

"I am not."

"You can keep thinking that, my dear. Either way, you should still stay here." He felt as though he was begging. If it meant she'd stay…

"Why are you so insistent on this? It's not like we won't see each other!"

"I know that, but I'd rather see you all the time."

"You telling me you aren't sick of me yet?"

"I don't think I ever could be." He said flatly, with more honesty than he'd intended.

"You're crazy." She shoved him. She was blushing now.

"Yeah?" He looked at her and smiled. "Well, what does that say about you?"

"I'm a complete and utter lunatic."

"But you're my lunatic."  
"Indeed."

"So stay here."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I've grown accustomed to having you here. This place is better with you in it."

"We can't keep doing this forever, Jaime."

"What, living together? People do it all the time!"

"Yes, married people."

"You know what, Brienne, I'm not going to fight you, I'm going to convince you to stay. Keep your schedule clear next Wednesday and I promise you, you'll end up staying."  
"Maybe I should talk to Sansa about this."

"Please just stay here with me for now. Let's go play a game. We don't have to talk about this anymore, I have it all handled. I'll tell Sansa to start looking for her own place."

"Jaime, I haven't agreed to stay here!"

"But you will." He practically sang the words.

"Cocky bastard."

"Stubborn wench."

"Just turn on the xbox, Jaime."

"Certainly, so long as you're prepared to lose."

Brienne was worried she was losing more than this game.

The next day she could tell that Jaime was plotting. She heard him whispering on the phone after he arrived home from his shift at work. It was 11 o'clock at night and she was lying in bed. He opened the door and whispered.

"You up, wench?" She nodded and turned over, watching as he took off his shirt and pants,.

"What are you doing?"

"It's too hot for clothes. Get over it, wench, I look good naked." She laughed.

"Well, who told you that?"

"Everyone who's ever seen me naked. How was your day?"

"Pleasant." Brienne took the book from her nightstand and handed it to him. "I finally finished this one. You should read it."

"That good?"

"Yeah. It was." She smiled with her lips closed.

"Then I'll read it. Well, I'm tired. You ready to sleep?"

"Yes, ser."

"Knighting me, are you? I like the sound of that." He turned off the light and climbed into bed beside her.

"Don't let it get to your head."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." The lack of light gave him confidence. "How are you _feeling_ today?"

"Actually, I'm feeling at peace."

"Really? That's amazing Brienne." She didn't know how to reply, so she turned over and closed her eyes, perhaps too happy when she felt him grab her hand. He pulled her towards him and put his arm around her, kissing the back of her head. Moments later as she drifted off to sleep she realized he hadn't let go. That, and she wasn't sure she wanted him to.

He was up the whole night, holding her close and running the plan through his head. Everything needed to be perfectly timed. Everyone needed to be ready to help. He needed her to feel the same. Was it possible that she wouldn't? Would he survive that? Would she say yes to him out of pity or…guilt? His fears were overtaking him, but he refused to let them stop his plan.

It was then that he realized he needed her more than she needed him. She was strong now, independent, and he was desperate for her to love him.

What would his father say about that? He smirked.

He was thinking too much.

Maybe he wasn't thinking at all…he could smell her shampoo and feel her warmth and…

Maybe it was okay to need her. The alternative did not seem to be an option.

He wanted to make this day perfect for her. A day without violence or nightmares or apartment hunting or anything else unpleasant. While he laughed at that last one, he was sure that having a day off from _rape_ would be much needed, even if she was going to be pampered and fawned over in ways she'd probably never been before. He laughed at that image as well. Maybe this day would be torture for her, but at least she wouldn't be able to blame him for not looking her best when he took her on their first date, even if he wasn't going to ask her out first. Was that wrong? Should he be asking her? But that would ruin the surprise. He hadn't gotten Sansa, Margaery, and Tyrion in on a plot that he'd be spoiling ahead of time. If Brienne had a problem with it she could say so…or beat him up. Either way, he was going to stick with his gut.

Would she like this type of thing? The grand romantic gesture? He'd never watched any romantic comedies with her so he couldn't be sure. Maybe she'd find the whole thing horrifying! No. This had to be the way. He had to make her see.

If he didn't do something big she wouldn't believe him. Silly girl. For almost a year now she had him wrapped around her finger.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12:

He kept grinning at her, almost every ten minutes on the dot. He was having far too much fun with her, and Brienne was sure that she was in for an interesting ride this afternoon. So much mystery had surrounded this day for over a week now, and the anticipation was near deadly. At the end of their shift, Brienne was ready to get in the car with Jaime and head home, hoping to get some information out of him along the way. He'd told her earlier to meet him at his locker when she was done for the day, but when she walked into the lockers, Jaime was not who she found.

"Margaery?" Oh no.

"Hey, Bri!"

"What are you doing here?"

"I have a little something for you…" She pulled out an envelope from behind her back. "Voila!"

"What?" Brienne took the envelope and opened it. What in the world…

"Read it out loud!"

"Fine. It says 'Note 1: Margaery is taking you shopping for an outfit to wear for a special night. Don't let her make you go too girly, but don't be afraid to wear a dress.' And then he's written one of those winky faces. Oh, Jaime, what the hell."

"You heard the man, let's go!"

Jaime and Tyrion had walked into a high end men's boutique. If Jaime was going to make Brienne dress up then he certainly had to as well. He wondered what she'd pick…

"I can't believe how elaborate this scheme is, big brother. It's a good thing this girl's worth it, otherwise I might kill you for putting me through this."

"Well she's worth it." He shook his head, laughing at himself.

"You think I don't know that?"

"I know it's just…she's _Brienne_." He looked up and smiled, hands in his pockets.

"Oh, brother, you've turned into a girl!" They laughed together. He put his hand on the shoulder of a suit.

"What do you think of this one?" Jaime picked up the dark grey suit and held it against his torso.

"Blue tie, white shirt, and you're good."  
"Really?"

"It's perfect, Jaim. This whole day is perfect." Tyrion slapped his brother on the back and they walked together to try on the new clothes. Jaime hoped his brother was right. Could this suit really even make a difference? Did it matter?

"You have to at least try it, Bri."

"You saw his note, he said I didn't have to be too girly." Brienne rolled her eyes.

"Please try it." Margaery whined. "Sansa will be here any minute and you know she'll force you to try it anyway."

"Fine, but don't be surprised when it looks better on the hanger." Brienne took the long blue dress into the changing room. She petted the material. It was soft, but structured, and yet somehow she was wary of trying it on. Would it fit? She hoped so, they only had it in one size. Oh, what was she thinking she wasn't meant to wear a dress like this! She stepped to open the curtain of the dressing room when she heard a familiar voice and knew Sansa had arrived.

"Is she trying something on?"

"Yeah, it's this gorgeous blue dress that matches her eyes. Jaime will die."

Brienne turned back around and unzipped her jeans, slipping out of them. She pulled off her top and looked herself over in the mirror, turning around and looking as if she was a dog looking for its spots. Did all women feel this way in front of dressing room mirrors? So free and yet so feeble? She too the dress into her hands, unzipping it from the back and then stepping inside. She reached around to pull the zipper up, and walked outside the dressing room before her reflection could catch her eye.

"I'm so excited about all of this, it's so…gods Brienne, I'm buying that dress for you right now."

"It's perfect." Margaery added.

"Really?" Brienne's eyes widened.

"Come look in the mirror." Margaery guided Brienne over to the three way mirror at the end of the hall. Brienne held up the dress at her hips, and before looking up, let the fabric drop over her. Then she saw herself. Oh. She looked…

"Wow." She whispered, unthinking.

"You look beautiful, Bri."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far."

"I would."

"I look like…"

"Like you have curves?"

"Like a model?"

"Like myself." She smiled. It was silly, but this was a dress where her scars wouldn't show and her hair and her eyes glimmered and she looked like the woman from before all of this, but with an unrelenting hint of the after.

"Who knew that could happen in a dress, huh?" Sansa joked.

"You're buying that dress." Brienne turned her head to Margaery.

"You're right." She nodded. "I think I am."

"Yay!" Sansa squealed. "Once you've checked out, I have the next note for you. Meet me at the coffee shop next door, I need something to eat."

"We'll see you in a few." Margaery smiled.

"Another note? What the hell is he doing?"

"Who knows, but you should enjoy it." Margaery winked. "Come, let's get you out of that dress and go pay. "

What was all of this? What was the purpose? Brienne came out of the dressing room and started asking the questions she realized she should've had from the start.

"Margaery, do you know what Jaime's planning? Why would I need a dress?"

"He hasn't given us any details." They approached the counter.

"Well, shouldn't we know _something_?"

"Why are you questioning this? Aren't you having fun?" She wasn't sure.

"Of course, yeah, I mean you know shopping isn't my favorite thing but its nice spending time with you."

"Well then, don't question it!" Margaery grinned mischievously.

After they'd paid for the dress, they walked out of the store and met Sansa in the café.

"Hand it over." Brienne barked.

"Whoa, someone's impatient. " Sansa remarked, pulling the envelope from her purse.

"'Note 2: Now that you're set with the clothes, it's time to pamper yourself. Enclosed is a voucher for three massages, mani/pedis, and hair/makeup appointments at the salon and spa. Go get ready for the night of your life.' The night of my life? What the hell is he up to?"

"Who cares, free spa day!" Sansa smiled and threw her hands up.

"Why is he doing this? One of you has to know."

"Maybe he's just being nice, Bri. Enjoy it!"

"Jaime knows as well as you do that I'm not that type of girl. Why is he putting me through this? I'm hardly a girl much less the feminine priss he's accusing me of being."

"Come on, Brienne, everyone enjoys a good massage, and the rest…well maybe he just wants you to feel beautiful!"

"Sansa, you and I both know there's a fat chance of that."

"You're going to have to stop saying things like that about my best friend. Now come on, let's just go to the spa, he's made appointments and its paid for, what's the harm?" Sansa was right. Damn it. Damn him. Jaime Lannister.

"No harm…I'm just not sure it'll do any good."

Margaery shook her head, stood, and grabbed both of her friends by the arms, pulling them out of the coffee shop and into the car to drive to the spa.

He'd found this little hidden path one day while driving the Pacific Coast Highway that lined Malibu beach. It was before he'd met Brienne, and he'd nearly forgotten about it, but when he tried to figure out how he was going to make this night special, he realized that this was the way to do it. The path was winding, beautiful, and led down a hill onto a section of beach where he stood now. He'd planned every last step, but now it was time for him to put the plans into place. What would she say when she saw all of this? He didn't know, but he hoped that in her life, a life plagued by tragedy and torment, that she would see this night as one of her brightest, for he knew he would. He remembered what he'd thought over and over on the night when her world came down. _It wasn't supposed to be like this._ That sentiment still rang true, but now he had the chance to do things better than they were supposed to be. Had any other man ever gone to such trouble to get a first date? He didn't know, but he knew it was worth it, as it would be the last first date he'd ever have. The only question would be how to propose after something this elaborate, but he knew he would find a way. Anything for Brienne.

She hadn't flinched once in the massage. It certainly helped that it was a woman doing the touching, but now, both a short and a long time since her attack, she was truly proud that she hadn't been bothered at the intrusion. She'd actually enjoyed herself a bit by the end, not wanting the massage to stop, albeit, she admitted to herself, more so hoping to stay and avoid the inevitable poking and prodding that was coming for her. After she redressed herself, she walked out to the salon waiting area where Sansa and Margaery were chatting.

"How much longer until the torture begins?" She asked. They laughed.

"Any minute now. It's been set up so that we can all sit beside each other as we go through each step. First toes, then nails, followed by hair, and lastly makeup."

"Go pick out nail colors, Bri!" Sansa added. Brienne did as instructed, unsure of what to do. Seeing her staring blankly at the options, Margaery came over and picked for her.

"A pale pink for your toenails, and a French manicure for your fingers: subtle, yet elegant." She was so bad at this, being a girl, and here was Margaery Tyrell, gorgeous in every way, trying to convince her to be elegant. She closed her eyes.

"Thanks, Marge."

"Your very welcome."

"Margaery, Sansa, and Brienne?"

"We're here!" Sansa said a tad too loudly, and stood, beckoning over her two friends.

"Follow me." A short woman with dark hair instructed them.

The entire time they sat getting their nails done, Sansa talked about her newest love interest, Sandor Clegane, and Margaery about her brother and Renly's upcoming civil service, and Brienne did her best to stare blindly and mentally twiddle her thumbs. What was Jaime planning? Why the hell would he do _this_? Why the hell would he _do_ this? Why the hell would _he_ do this?

About an hour later, Brienne was sitting in the hairdresser's chair.

"So, what do you do for women like me with hair so painfully short, and faces so dreadfully large?" Brienne snarked. The woman laughed.

"Well, you have some lovely longer pieces, so here's what I'm thinking. I'm going to blow out your hair, give it some volume, and then give the sides a bit of a wet look, with a side swept bang."

"Whatever you say."

Brienne sat for the next half hour, thinking. What did Jaime have planned? Why had he spent so much time lining all of this up? Not to mention the money. Did he have some sort of news for her? Was he sick? Did he need her to move out? Was he back with Cersei? Was he moving away? New job, new city, new life? The end of an era? The end of their friendship? A last hurrah?

She closed her eyes and held them tight as the thoughts circled through her head.

"All done."

She looked up.

"Wow, this is really nice, thank you." Brienne smiled. She looked different.

"Pleasure was mine, my dear. Now, you're off to makeup. Straight over there, to the left. Go on." The hairdresser smiled and walked away from the chair.

After her makeup was done, Brienne was given a handheld mirror by Margaery so that she could look at herself.

"Oh, my. I look…_pretty_. I didn't know that was possible."

"You look beautiful, Brienne. Absolutely beautiful." Sansa cooed.

"Brienne, you've always been beautiful, but my goodness." The three of them kept looking at Brienne's reflection in the mirror. When had her lips become shapely or her skin less freckled or her eyes so blue?

"Miss Tarth." She heard Tyrion's voice and turned to him.

"Tyrion, what are you doing here?"

"Actually, it's Mr. Lannister this evening. I'll be your chauffeur. And might I say you look simply radiant this evening."

"Well, thank you, but you're my chauffeur? What for?"

"Here's a note." She opened it as he handed it to her, grinning and shaking her head. She scoffed. What was he _doing_?!

"Note 3: Tyrion will be driving you somewhere. He will not tell you where. He will drop you off at the end of a path. Follow it. Pick up the numbered rocks as you go to find the next notes."

"More notes? And here I was thinking this was only semi-elaborate. Didn't know Lannister had it in him!" Margaery quipped.

Jaime was placing the final rock on the pathway when the sushi delivery arrived. He'd picked a sushi dinner both because it would not be a problem in the cold air, and he'd introduced it to her in their first few months of friendship. Brienne was never too keen on trying new things, but he'd forced her over the cliff a few times and sushi was the one new adventure that stuck. He paid the delivery guy and walked back to the table he'd set for them. He put out chopsticks and soy sauce, setting up small dishes for dipping and putting the food on plates he'd brought from home. No. This had been a bad idea. Sushi gets messy, at least with him and Brienne. And the tablecloth was _white_. Oh! What a right idiot he was. Too late.

The table was anchored in the sand, and he'd built a cloth canopy which hung around it. Well…he bought a cloth canopy, but the thought was there, even if the skill was not. There were flowers at the table's center, as well as two candles which refused to stay lit. Tyrion should be on his way with her by now. He circled the table, barefoot and in a suit, certain he either looked dashing or utterly foolish. He walked back to the path, checking that each rock was painted with the correct number, and still held a note beneath it. In total, Brienne would receive 17 notes, and he'd prepared what he'd say as she approached him. He'd spent half the day painting these stupid rocks, but hopefully she'd think this idea was…romantic.

Or maybe it was just…pathetic. Desperate. Out of touch. Forcing it. As messy as the soy sauce he was bound to spill on that table cloth.

He wondered what she was thinking about this. Did she know what he had planned? Did she know what this day meant? Did she love him back?

Tyrion had better drive fast.

She'd spent the whole ride fidgeting in her new dress and asking Tyrion where they were going to which he would only reply "to meet my brother." Honestly, at this point, such an answer was enough for Brienne, as she was simply ready to see Jaime and figure out what the hell this day had been about. It was about twenty minutes before Tyrion pulled over to the side of the road.

"Where are we?"

"Malibu."

"Well, I know that, but where are we parked right now?"

"Look out the window. Do you see the rock over there with the painted number four on it? That's the start of the path Jaime intends you to follow." This was a path? She was going on this supposed path alone?

"You're not coming with me?"

"No, I'm afraid Sansa, Margaery, and I have all completed our tasks, and from here on out it will just be you and Jaime. You should go." She sat for a minute and tried to be brave. Well…at least she could pretend.

"Alrighty then. Well, thank you for the ride Tyrion."

"Anytime, Miss Tarth." She opened the door. "Oh, and one last thing before you go."

She turned back to him.

"Yes?"

"Be good to my brother." She nodded, confused.

"Always." She replied, stepping out of the car and walking towards the painted rock. She lifted it, finding an envelope underneath. She opened it.

_Note 4: Here comes a list of my favorite things about you, Brienne Tarth. First, how red you get when you blush._

She was blushing, now. His favorite things about her? What did he want from her…was this some sort of bribe? A cheap trick? A way of getting her out of the apartment? The next note was a few steps away…

_Note 5: Second, your determination with patients, especially children._

Hmm. Then…

_Note 6: Third, your laugh. Such complete abandon._

She hated her laugh. Never could control it. Why would he…? Just a few more steps…

_Note 7: Fourth, how strangely soft your hands are._

_Note 8: Fifth, how incredibly strong you are, and how vulnerable you allow yourself to be with me._

_Note 9: Sixth, those eyes. Truly astonishing eyes._

_Note 10: Seventh, your honesty._

_Note 11: Eighth, when you show emotions during silly television shows._

What was he doing? Her heart was beating faster now.

_Note 12: Ninth, the space where your neck meets your shoulder._

_Note 13: Tenth, endless legs._

What? My what? What in the world?

_Note 14: Eleventh, the way you feel smaller in my arms._

_Note 15: Twelfth, the way you make me feel._

And how is that, Jaime? Like a lunatic? Because clearly that's what you are.

_Note 16: Thirteenth, how you've helped me be a better man._

That's not true. You were always a good man. You were always a wonderful man. The last note was furthest away, and as she approached it she could see him walking towards her. He was dressed in a grey suit, and he was…barefoot. She looked behind him and saw a table and a canopy on the beach. It couldn't be…

_Note 17: Fourteen, the way you've never judged me for my faults._

He was in front of her now, suddenly. Just two more steps and he spoke.

"Fifteen, how deliciously oblivious you are." How what? What is this?

"Jaime, what is this?" He tensed.

"Well…this is our first date, Brienne."

"Our what?" She was flabbergasted.

"Our first date!" He smiled. He's joking. This is all some big joke. He saw hurt in her eyes as she spoke.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked stepping back from him. He shook his head.

"Gods, Brienne, do you think this is some joke? Don't tell me you don't know by now."

"Know what, Jaime…that I'm ugly and easy to pick on? I certainly know that." She felt tears coming. She wouldn't.

"Are you kidding me, Brienne. Look at me. Look in my eyes. You trust me, don't you?" She nodded. "Look at me when I say this. This is not a joke. This is everything. Brienne, you're everything to me. You're my whole world. I could never live without you." She was suddenly overwhelmed. She was what? His what?

"I'm your what?" She couldn't move. He smiled.

"My world, my whole world, Brienne." He stepped forward and grabbed her hand.

"What are you saying, Jaime? What's going on, I'm so…" She looked down._ I'm so confused, scared, unable to let myself hope that you'll say…_

"Look at me, Brienne." She shut her eyes to quell the tears once more, then obeyed. "I love you. I'm saying that I love you. I love you. I love you so much. I am so in love with you. You have my heart." He what? He loves me? Her heart jumped. I have his heart? I have his heart in return for mine after all this time?

"I do?" He nodded, putting his hand on her chin to hold her gaze.

"Did you know the night you were attacked I was going to ask you out? I had flowers and everything, just ask Margaery! And I had a speech prepared, this whole _speech_, and I was going to tell you that I wanted to be more than friends. And I knew you would be afraid of losing our friendship, so I was going to reassure you that you'd always have me no matter what. I was going to tell you that you just had to go out with me and let me show you how I felt about you. I was going to do this so long ago."

"How you _felt_?" Past tense?

"How I felt then and how I feel now more deeply and more strongly than ever before. I love you Brienne. Always will." She felt a tear on her cheek. She was shaking.

"Are you sure, Jaime? Please tell me you're sure." He put his hand on her cheek.

"So sure." He was sure. He loved her. She had his heart. This was never her story, but maybe, just maybe…She had to try.

"Then…kiss me." He smiled at her, then stopped in his tracks. _What did she just say?_

"What?" He grinned. He'd heard it. He knew it. Just say it, Brienne, _please_.

"Kiss me. You've been waiting long enough and gods know I've loved you for so long now so just…kiss me or I'll do it for you."

"Holy hell, wench." He groaned, and then moved in towards her lips, unable to meet them before she crashed into him, taking over him, wholly. He was kissing _Brienne. _He threw his arm around her back and pulled her closer to him. He was kissing Brienne, his best friend, his confidant, his…everything. Finally. He felt a sudden need for air, and broke away. He still couldn't catch his breath. _Those eyes._

"Wow." She whispered.

"Wow." He echoed.

"Oh, my…" She put a hand to her lips as if to feel his tough again through the tingling he'd left there. He loved her for that. For that and for everything.

"Gods, wench, I love you so much." He said before kissing her again. As he was kissing her, he thought of the notes and the rock and the dress and the canopy and thanked his girlish heart for taking rein. And suddenly, Jaime Lannister was truly thankful that he'd gotten a dinner that would be edible cold, as he planned to let the food sit and shiver as he would keep kissing her here, in this sand, on this beach, for as long as their lips would allow.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13:

"I still can't believe this happened. I can't believe that he loves me." Brienne was glowing, but Margaery just rolled her eyes.

"Well, we certainly can. It's only been obvious for the past year."

"It has?"

"Brienne, he's a gorgeous, talented, single guy who hasn't dated anyone since he met you and has literally watched you go through hell without running. He loves you. It's almost annoying how much." Margaery chuckled.

"Sansa, what do you think?"

"Well, I don't think you're so crazy to have missed it all this time, I realized recently that I also wasn't seeing what was right in front of me…but do you really think a man like that would be sleeping with you every night without…sleeping with you and not love you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that since he's met you, Jaime's been pretty much celibate as far as I know, and I'm certain being next to you every night has him tempted."

"But…it's me. I'm not exactly…"

"Sexy?" Margaery interjected. "I know Jaime would argue otherwise. I mean look at these notes." Margaery grabbed the pile of notes Brienne had brought over to show them. "Endless legs, gorgeous eyes, your laugh, the way you make him _feel_!"

"Oh, stop it!" Brienne grabbed the notes from her hands. "He didn't mean it like that."

"How do you know?"

"I just know, alright?"

"Well tell me about the kissing again, because no man kisses a woman that way if he doesn't find her sexy."

"That was because of all the makeup and hair and the dress."

"No it wasn't!" Sansa shouted.

"Be reasonable, Sansa. He knows how…mannish and homely I look. There's a reason why he sent me off for a makeover."

"Oh, my god, Bri. I'm calling him right now."

"What?" Sansa had already walked out of the room and out of earshot.

"Lannister? We have a problem. Looks like your makeover idea backfired."

"What? I thought she had fun? Something different?"

"She did, but now she also thinks that the makeover is the only reason you find her attractive."

"What?! Oh, you can't be serious. Send her home, I'm fixing this right now."

"Will do. But don't mess this up, Jaime. She already is so insecure about her looks, especially in the context of you."

"I get it, Stark. Send her home."

Brienne pulled up to the apartment, parked her car and walked inside. "What?" She said, when she found him staring at her.

"Come here." She did. He put his right hand on her face and wrapped his left arm around her, pulling her to him. "I'm about to kiss you. Remember, you aren't wearing any makeup. Or a dress. Your hair is in tangles. And you're still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Try to remember that when my lips are making you lightheaded, alright?" And before she could respond, he kissed her. He kissed her the same way he had the night before. He kissed her in a way that made her feel beautiful and whole. She pulled away.

"I don't need you to lie about my appearance, Jaime. I've seen my own reflection, and I'm not a fool to be mocked." He shook his head and grunted in frustration.

"Screw it, follow me." He walked into the bedroom and placed her in front of the full length mirror. "Look at yourself."

"I am. Why are you doing this?"

"Look at your eyes. They're incredible. Your skin is smooth." He brushed his fingers over her cheek. "Your lips are full, and highly kissable. I would know." He winked at her, then put his hands on her shoulders. "These shoulders are broad and strong. When you stand tall you look like a warrior. These arms, they're beautifully toned, though I'm not sure how you've accomplished that, be it video games or chest compressions. Your waist curves inward, a reflection of your soft, unassuming womanhood, then your hips come out of the curve, strong and so sexy. And don't forget those fucking never ending legs of yours. Gods, the number of times I've imagined them wrapped around me. I know you know about your…inner beauty…but someday I'm going to show you the beauty of your body that you always seem to miss."

"Jaime…" She whispered. He could see she was tearing up.

"My mother may not have been alive long enough to teach me much, but she always taught me to listen to my heart. I wish I could make _you_ listen to _my _heart, because maybe then you'd understand."

"I wish I did. Jaime, I just don't get it. Why me? I mean, look at yourself in this mirror for seven's sake. You're…devastatingly handsome. You could have anyone you chose."

"And I choose you, dammit." He pulled her face towards her. He had to make her see. "Don't you get it, wench. I choose you. I want you. Only you. I want to kiss you, and make love to you, and marry you, and never touch another woman for all of my days because I love you. I love you more than I knew I could ever love anyone, and I won't have you feeling this way about the woman I love. The woman I love is beautiful, and lovely, and incredibly sexy, and if she doesn't stop acting like she isn't…well then I'm just going to have to show her aren't I?"

He kissed her, more deeply now. He was hungry for her, she could feel it. He was relentless, and he pulled her over to the bed where he lay her down and kissed her neck. He was on top of her. Jaime Lannister was on top of her. She had to do something. She had to react.

He felt as she started to move beneath him. Her lips were on his neck as he lowered himself to her collarbone, then her hips, then her calves, sinking off the edge of the bed and planting kisses all the way. He was on his knees at the base of the bed, starting from the bottom with a determination to kiss every inch of her. He pulled off her sweatpants and began working his way up to her panties. When he got there, he could see that she was wet, but he knew he had to go up higher before he could really give her that pleasure. He pulled her shirt above her head after looking at her eyes to see if she was okay, but noticing the euphoria in her face despite her closed lids. He kissed her ribs, right at the spot where her bra met her skin and she moaned.

"Ah-ha!" He said in triumph.

"Don't stop." She begged, and he kissed her there again and again, pulling off her bra and sucking on her nipples. She did not have much of a chest, but he didn't care. He would certainly not be stopped from enjoying it, no matter the size They were very _her _after all, unassuming, and not going to get in her way. After a moment, he came back up and kissed her lips, while using his hands to pull down her panties. She jerked away from him.

"I'm sorry." She said, backing away from him, slipping out from under him, and picking up her clothes before entering the bathroom.

What had he done? Had he hurt her? Had he…oh no. Was she thinking about what happened to her? What was she… "Brienne!" He called out. "What's wrong?" He knocked on the door. She pulled it open, and walked out of it, now clothed.

"I'm sorry, Jaime."

"What's wrong, what is it?"

"It's just…"

"Tell me, please." He pulled her chin up, making her look at him.

"I've never done this before. I've never…been kissed that way or touched that way before, and I…" She shook her head.

"You got scared. You were overwhelmed. Gods, I'm sorry, Brienne. I got carried away."

"No, its not you, its just…I was enjoying myself so much, but I couldn't figure out what to do. I don't know what I'm doing in the bedroom." She paused. "I'm not ready for sex yet, and I don't want to disappoint you."

"You could never disappoint me, Brienne, why would you think that?"

"Well when I was with the girls, they were saying how you had been celibate for so long, and I realized you probably hadn't been with anyone since your sister…and…well I'm certainly not your sister."

"Thank gods for that." He smiled at her, and she finally made eye contact with him as she sat on the bed.

"Jaime, all I know of sex happened in that alley." She put her head down, ashamed.

"Then, you know nothing of sex. That wasn't sex, Brienne."

"What do you mean? Of course it was sex."

"No. Sex is about passion, feeling, closeness. Sex for me is about love. What happened to you wasn't sex, it was a perversion of it. It was violence." He looked at her, sitting beside her and grabbing her hand. "As far as I'm concerned, you're just as much a virgin as you were before. And someday, my love, when you're ready, I'm going to give you the first time you dreamed of, because it will be your first time. Your first time with someone you love."

She turned to him and kissed him sweetly, before putting her arms around him and pulling him close.

After a while, they got up and made dinner, then talked about how incredibly cheesy his whole plan had been, and later, once the video games had been played and the kissing halted, they crawled into bed together. This night, he wrapped himself around her, his arms enveloping her, and their legs alternating: her left, his right, her right, his left, tangled together. It was almost an hour before she started to fall asleep, when she heard him whisper a prayer. He must've thought she was asleep.

"Please let her see that I love her, and please let her start to love herself even half as much. The world owes her that."


	14. Chapter 14

She wasn't sure if she could do it all. Sex. Love. Intimacy. She just wasn't sure. She knew she wanted to be with Jaime but…it was all too fast. It was two months after their first date, and Brienne and Jaime were doing incredibly well together. He was being so patient with her, especially about sex He wasn't in a rush anyways, as, for the first time in his life, he was in a relationship he could show off in public. The hospital was all ablaze about their romance from the moment they went public. Different nurses and doctors were approaching them each day asking questions. Margaery had told Brienne that the gossip had even reached her floor of the hospital, which meant everyone had to know by now.

Everyone knew.

Brienne was bothered by the attention. She still wasn't completely over the attack, still sometimes had nightmares, still got into fits of depression or anger when it was brought up. All of the added attention was crowding her, so much so that she decided she needed a vacation. She wasn't sure whether she had any time saved up, but her supervisor informed her that, since her post-rape leave was being categorized as disability leave, she would still have almost two weeks of vacation available. As for Jaime, he was less fortunate, being left with only a week of paid leave, but he told Brienne that she should take Brienne and Sansa and have a few days on an Island somewhere, though he admitted he'd miss having her beside him at night.

It was decided then, and once Sansa confirmed her days off, Brienne, Margaery, and Sansa departed for Catalina Island. They planned to sleep in, try scuba diving, shop a little, and relax on the beach. Little did they know that the shopping both she and Jaime would be doing from hundreds of miles apart would change their two lives forever.

"You want to buy lingerie? Oh, Brienne I'm so proud of you!" Sansa squealed. Margaery had gasped when she said it, but once she picked her jaw up, she set into planning.

"Ok, so looking at this website, there are three major lingerie stores on the island, two nearby. One called…Monique's Intimate Apparel. That sounds promising."

"I'm not making any promises, you two, I just…I think I'm ready for our first time but Jaime's just so nervous and I think he might need an extra push."

"Jaime's nervous?" Sansa asked as Margaery laughed.

"Not about sex…about not hurting me."

"Oh, well that's sweet." Sansa smiled.

"Or stupid." Margaery quipped.

"Either way, we should start looking. Who even knows if they make lingerie for women shaped like me."

"You mean tall and model-esque? I'm sure we'll find out, now let's go." Margaery beckoned her friends to follow her as she followed the GPS on her iPhone.

"Oh, look at this one!" Sansa remarked on another baby-doll lingerie set, adding it to her and Margaery's growing pile.

"Will you two ever stop?" Brienne asked.

"Not if we can help it." Margaery replied.

"Come on, guys, I want to at least see the beach one more time before we leave tonight."

"And we will, but first we have to see you in all of these."

"Well, can I at least start trying things on now?"

"Fine, let's go." When they got to the dressing room, to Margaery and Sansa's display there was a six item limit, but they allowed Brienne to eliminate as much as she could, bringing the number down to four.

"These will be fine. One red, one blue, one black, and one…what is this even called?"

"Fuschia, Bri. Fuschia. Now go get to trying." It wasn't until she put on the blue that she felt comfortable enough to come out. The red had been too revealing, the black too boring, and the fuschia too bold. Once again, blue was her color, and though part of her had wanted to wear red, for Jaime, she knew he'd find her beautiful in this too. How far she'd come. She stepped out from the small changing room.

"Yep, blue it is."

"We knew it. Predictable."

"But beautiful, Marge, don't forget beautiful."

"Oh I know. It's definitely the right one, though don't expect to be wearing it for long." Brienne blushed.

"Is it weird that I'm…excited."

"I think if either of us had a man like Jaime Lannister after us, we'd be right there with you."

"Ok, back to the beach. One last hurrah before the end of this trip."

"I agree, after all, once we get back we'll never see Brienne again. She'll be spending all her time in bed." Margaery raised her eyebrows and Sansa laughed as Brienne flushed again and rushed back to the changing room.

"Brother, what is it?" Tyrion said walking through the door. Jaime has asked him to come over, urgently, but kept the subject of their meeting shrouded in mystery.

"I may have made a rather big purchase today, and I'd like you to double check me on it."

"What is it…a dog? A house?"

"A ring."

"An engagement ring…"

"Maybe." He pulled the box from his pocket.

"But you haven't even slept with her yet. It's been two months…what are you thinking?"

"I know it sounds crazy but…I hope she's ready, because I've loved her for so long that I don't want to wait any longer. Finding this ring was a sign, I just know it." Tyrion opened the box to see a very large blue stone flanked on either side by glistening diamonds. It was large, very Lannister, and beautiful. "The stone is Tanzanite. It matches her eyes."

"You're right…this ring is perfect. When are you going to ask her?"

"As soon as I get the chance to whisk her away to the old house on Lake Tahoe."

"Tahoe. It's…"

"Perfect, I know. It was always my favorite place growing up, and I can't wait to go there with her."

"And just like that…after less than three months of dating…you're going to get engaged?"

"Brienne and I may not have been dating for long, but we've been together in my heart for far longer. It's not as though I just met her three months ago. She's been the closest person to me besides you for two whole years now. She knows everything, about Cersei, about everything, and I know everything about her. We've been living together for months now, too…it just…it feels right."

"Whatever you say, brother. I just hope you get the answer you want and not a kick in the balls."

"Yeah, I hope so too."


End file.
